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RECOMMENDATIONS. 



I HAVE read with pleasure the first 144 pages of 
^'Six Years in the Monasteries of Italy ^ ^c,^^ The 
subject, "The religion of Rome/' is one which, 
wilhin a few years, has attracted a great deal of at- 
tention from the religious public; and, therefore, this 
work, replete with interest, and embodying much 
that is entertaining and instructive, written in an 
attractive style, cannot fail to prove acceptable. 

For the correctness of many statements recorded, 
or the truth of many of the pictures drawn by the 
author, I cannot determine from personal know- 
ledge. I may, however, be permitted to indulge an 
opinion favourable as to the truth of every state- 
ment, founded on what has been previously known, 
on this all absorbing question. 

The author seems to have written with a view to 
inform, fearless alike of the anathemas of the Ro- 
mish priesthood, or the too frequent censure of those 
who are contented to let all worship God according 
to the dictates of their own minds— no matter what 
unholy influence may have warped them during the 
years of infancy, or more mature age. 

WILSON JEWELL, M. D. 

Philadelphia J J2u§ust ^th^ 1836. 



2 RECOMMENDATIONS. 

Having had an opportunity of examining nearly 
one-half of Mr. Mahoney's work, entitled, " Six 
Years in the Monasteries of Italy ^ 8^c,^^ I take 
pleasure in stating, that I think its publication will 
prove useful, especially to the American reader. It 
appears to contain a candid and faithful exhibition 
of many of the errors of the Roman Catholic Church, 
with respect both to faith and practice, derived either 
from their accredited works or his own observa- 
tions. So far as I have had an opportunity of be- 
coming acquainted with his character, it is fair,* and 
I believe his statements to be worthy of credit. The 
Romanists may indeed say, he has apostatised from 
their faith, and he is therefore not worthy of being 
believed; but that surely can be no objection to his 
quotations from their accredited works; and many 
of his statements are verified by the testimony of 
men who have lived and died in their communion. 
If his character be otherwise fair, and no improper 
motives can be attributed to him, his secession from 
them should not invalidate his testimony. They 
themselves have involved the whole monastic sys- 
tem in so much secrecy and mystery, that the truth 
could never be known, but from the testimony of 
those who " have come out from among them.'^ — 
They have no reason to find fault, while they have 
it in their power to disprove every thing which is 
falsely alleged against them, by a fair and candid 
exhibition of themselves, and their system in prac- 

* Mr. Mahony was introduced to me by the Rev. Josiah 
Brewer, Missionary at Smyrna, who, I believe, has confi- 
dence in his character. 



RECOMMENDATIONS. 3 

tice. Until this shall be the case, I shall be thankful 
to Mr. Mahoney, or any other man, who may throw- 
light on a subject which the Roman Catholics have 
themselves enshrouded in darkness. We ask for 
light. 

C. C. CUYLER, Pastor of the Second 
Presbyterian Church, Philadelphia. 
Philadelphia^ August \5thj 1836. 



Princeton^ Aug, 16 th, 1836. 

Having been requested by the Rev. S. I. Maho- 
ney, to give him our opinion of his recent work, 
entitled ''Six Years in the Monasteries of Italy ^ 
Sf*c.^^ we are prepared to say that, so far as a par- 
tial examination of the twelve first chapters (all we 
have seen) can furnish a just judgment concerning 
the whole book, we think it a seasonable produc- 
tion. It appears to be written with much modera- 
tion and good spirit ; it contains many important 
and instructive disclosures of the anti-social and 
anti-christian character of Monastic Institutions, and 
will, we trust, become a valuable auxiliary in^expo- 
sing to the American people, the enormous and 
threatening evils of Popery, of which Monasteries 
constitute the peculiar strong hold and nursery, 

JOHN BRECKENRIDGE, 

Professor of Pastoral Theology, in the Theo- 
logical Seminary of Princeton. 
SAMUEL MILLER, 
Professor of Ecclesiastical History and 
Church Government. 



4 RECOMMENDATIONS. 

Philadelphia^ •August I9thy 1836. 

I HAVE cursorily examined a portion of a book 
entitled, " Six Years in the Monasteries of Italy y 
^c./^ by Mr. S. I. Mahoney, and as far as I can 
judge, believe that it will present a fair and lucid 
exhibition of a subject at this time deeply interesting 
to the American people. I doubt not the interests 
of truth and righteousness would be promoted by 
an extensive circulation of the work. 

ALBERT BARNES, Pastor of the First 
Presbyterian Church, Philadelphia. 



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SIX YEARS 



IN THE 

MONASTERIES OF ITALY, 

AND 

TWO YEARS 

IN THE 

ISLANDS OF THE MEDITERRANEAN 
AND IN ASIA MINOR: . 

CONTAINING 

A View of the Manners and Customs of the Popish Clergy in 
Ireland, France, Italy, Malta, Corfu, Zante, Smyrna, &c. 

WITH ANECDOTES AND REMARKS 

ILLUSTRATING SOME OF THE PECULIAR DOCTRINES OF THE 
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH. 

By rev. S. I. MAHONEY, 

LATE A CAPUCHIN FRIAR IN THE CONVENT OF THE IMMACULATE 
CONCEPTION AT ROME. 

Oy;^' av^avtt rov Aai/uovof ouaa-iv to ^^ris-KSviiv, 

A superstitious worship is not pleasing to God. — Greek Proverb. 



NEW YORK: 

HALL & VOORHIES,' 118 NASSAU STREET. 

PHILADELPHIA : 

E. C. BTDDLE, 23 MINOR STREET. 

1836. 







Entered according to the act of Congress, in the year 1836, by 
Edward C. Biddle, in the office of the clerk of the District 
Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



Philadelphia : 

T. K. & P. G. Collins, Printers, 

No. 1 Lodge Alley. 



PREFACE. 



Among the many works lately published in this 
country on the subject of the Roman Catholic Church, 
not one, it has been observed, is fitted to give the 
Protestant reader a just notion of the leading features 
of that religion. It is not enough, in order that Pro- 
testants may justly appreciate the blessings of Gospel 
freedom, to lay open to the world the conduct of 
some few of the Clergy — to hold up, to the execra- 
tion of the public, the vices practised within the 
well secured cloisters of nuns, and to expose the 
artifices and impositions of priests — but it is also 
necessary to make it clear, that such efiects are the 
necessary consequences of the system itself. And 
who can better fulfil that duty (for duty it certainly 
is) than some one who formerly belonged to the 
Romish priesthood? The author of the following 
pages often wished to see the subject taken up by 
abler hands than his own, but his wishes have been 
hitherto in vain. Having spent a great part of his 
life — from his sixteenth to his twenty-third year — 



IV PREFACE. 

secluded within the walls of a monastery, and hav- 
ing been educated in the capital of Popery, he offers 
to the public the following pages — a narrative of his 
own life and experience — hoping they may serve 
as an antidote against the sly and plausible endea- 
vours of Popish Priests, who, even in this free coun- 
try, with the true spirit of their church, wish, and 
are daily endeavouring to subvert the faith of un- 
stable Protestants. If he succeed in fully impressing 
on the minds of Protestants the dangers of Popery, 
and in unmasking the plausible excuses of its advo- 
cates, he will not consider his labour as thrown away. 
If he succeed in saving one, only one, whether Pro- 
testant or Romanist, male or female, from the dan- 
gerous gulf of monachism, he will think himself 
more than repaid. Recommending the work to the 
Father of light, who sees the purity of his intentions, 
and without whose aid no beneficial results can fol- 
low from it, he submits himself and it to a religious 
and discerning public. 

Philadelphia, July, 1836. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

Introduction — The Authop's birth and education — Dedication of 
cliildren — Evil effects thereof — Two instances — First confession 
— Its effects on the Author's mind — The Capuchin Superior in 
Ireland — Meddling- of Priests in private families. . . 1 

CHAPTER II. 

Departure for Rome — My father's last v^^ords at parting" — Reflec- 
tions — Arrival in Paris — French clergy — State of religion in France 
— Disrespect shov^n to the Clergy by the French — An instance of 
it — Lyons — Conversation with an innkeeper — His description of 
French religion — French Protestants— Church of Lyons — Arians 
— Conversion of 1500 Papists — Their return to Popery — For what 
reason — Present revivals. . . . . . . . 8 

CHAPTER III. 

Arrival at Rome — Cardinal Micara, General of the Capuchins — 
How received by him — The Lay-brother Cicerone — In what depart- 
ment of curiosities he excelled — Removal to Frascati — Description 
of Frascati and its environs — Reception — The English not Chris- 
tians — How explained — Italian civility to strangers — Taking the 
habit. — Ceremonies used on that occasion. ... 14 

CHAPTER IV. 

Rule of St. Francis — Reasons for being unable to obtain a sight 
of it before receiving the Habit — Tradition attached to it — Fran- 
cis' conversation with the miraculous Crucifix — Pope Honorius — 
Canonically elected popes — Infallibility— Lents — Wonderful change 
of flesh — meat into fish. ....... S3 

CHAPTER V. 

Continuation of the Rule — Monkish Vow of Poverty — How ob- 
served — Anecdote of a Carmelite — Masses — Obedience— Ednca- 



VI CONTENTS. 

tion of Novices — An Ass turned into an Ox — The Tree of Obedi- 
ence. . . . ... . . . .30 

CHAPTER VI. 

What excited Francis to found his order — Benedictines — Santo- 
ni — State of the religious orders in the thirteenth century — State 
of the people — Francis' ambition. ..... 37 

CHAPTER VII. 

Novitiate — Education of Novices — Master-novice — His Qualifi- 
cations — Popish prayers — Canonization and Beatificuticn — Cano- 
nical hours. ......... 43 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Breviary — Its unwilling agency in leading nmny priejfts to the 
Truth — Story of a Tyrolcse monk — His Conversion — The cause. 
of it — Remarks upon it by a Professor of Theology — How a Po- 
pish Priest may commit seven mortal sins per diem. . . 50 

CHAPTER IX. 

Design of the Breviary — Pius V's bull — Extract from it — Mar- 
cellus — Life of Gregory the Great — [lis works — Li;<3 of Leo. I. — 
His great exploits — Remarks thereon — Nunneries of Tuscany. 55 

CHAPTER X. 

Continuation of extracts from the Breviary — Murcellinus — The 
pope sacrifices to idols — Why he could not be judged by the 
church — Infallibility, a species of impeccability — John — The tes- 
timony of a horse in favor of his claims — Remarks thereon — A 
Sample of Gregory the Great's works— Review of the Bishop of 
Rome's claim to Supremacy — Never acknowledged by the Greek 
church — Uninterrupted succession — Imaginary popes manufac- 
tured. 64 

CHAPTER XI. 

Continuation of extracts from the Breviary — St Vincent Ferreri 
— Miracle — Suspension of the laws of nature — Remarks — Adora- 
tion of Vincent at Valencia — St. Anthony of Padua — Preaches to 
the Birds — Hymn composed in his honor — Efis Miracles — Sailing 
without Ship or Boat — Removal of Mountains — St. Denis walking 
with his head in his hand — Shrine of an Italian Saint — Concluding 
remarks on the Breviary. ...... 73 

CHAPTER XII. 

Evils attending a monkish life — Novices kept in ignorance of 



CONTENTS. VU 

the real state of a monk — Passions, to which Monks are subject — 
I-fatrcd and Anger — Ambition — Tragical story of two 1'uscan 
Monks — Method of conveying- moral instruction — Narrative of an 
occurrence said to have taken place in the Capuchin Convent of Fras- 
cati — Why the Capuchins wear beards — The Wood of the True 
Cross. .......... 85 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Termination of Novitiate — Votes of the other monks required 
before the Novice can be admitted to Profession — Ceremonies used 
at the Profession of a Monk — The monastic vows — Good and bad 
monks — Story of a bad monk — Monkish Persecutions — ^The bad 
monk's flight from Turin — How treated by the General at Rome 
— His Secularization — Expenses incurred before he could obtain it 
— The bad monk turned into a zealous preacher of the Gospel — 
Classification of Monks. ....... 94 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Convents of study — The Employment, in which those monks 
who are void of talents, are engaged — Monastic studies — Logic — 
Metaphysics — Its use in supporting Popish doctrines — Dogmatic 
Theology — Its evil tendency — Mutilation of Scripture — Purgato- 
ry — Popish Theologians — Polemical divinity — Character of Popish 
Polemics — How they excuse themselves — Moral Theology — 
Auricular confession — Its instrumentality in the support of Priest- 
craft. 108 

CHAPTER XV. 

Continuation of remarks upon Moral Tiieology — Mortal and ve- 
nial Sins — Precepts of the Church — Prohibition to sell Flesh-meat 
on Fridays and Saturdays — Punishment of those, Vv'ho transgress 
the Precept of Fasting — Confession and Communion — Sentence of 
Excommunication — Number of Popish Sacraments — The Eu- 
charist — Anathema of the Council of Trent against a.11, who deny 
the Real Presence — Absurdity of that Doctrine — One hundred 
thousand Christs created every day — Popish Inventions for the sup- 
port of the Doctrine of Transubstantiation — The Miraculous Cor- 
poral — Miraculous Particle — State of the Jews at Rome — A mule's 
testimony of the truth of the Real Presence — Anecdote of Rabe- 
lais — Sale of masses — Cost of a high mass — Reflections — The trea- 
tise upon Oaths — No Faith to be kept with Heretics — Dispensing 
power of Priests — Murder of Protestant Clergymen in Ireland — 
Jesuitical Morality 119 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Reflections upon monastic Studies — Extraordinary charity of 



VUl CONTENTS. 

those, who endeavour to excuse doctrinal Error — The young monk 
begins to see monachism, as it really is — Schools, in which he 
learns the secrets of i\Ionacbisrn — Want of decorum in reciting 
the Divine Office — Gradual corruption of the young iVIonk — Monks, 
hons vivants — The manner in which the income of convents is 
spent — Belly vei'sus Obedience; a scene in monkish life — Cardinal 
Micara in jeopardy — The foretroing scene Dramatized — Calumny 
and detraction of Plonks — Their conversation in the Refectory — 
I\Ionkish luxuries obtained at the sacrifice of honour and virtue — 
Story of a young man, the victim of monkish calumny — Clerk of 
the Kitchen — Manner of punishing a bad Cook — Monkish fasting 
and abstinence — Lent — Dinners — Collation — Monkish fiilse preten- 
sions. . . . . . . . . . . 138 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Effects of bad example — Its effect on tlie Author's mind — He 
Kceks the advice of his Confessor — The Confessor's Apology for 
the vices of his Order — A word of Advice from the same for the 
Author's private use — Tampering with the Conscience of others, 
as practised in the Confessional — The Author practises upon his 
Confessor's Advice — Falls into Infidelity — Argues publicly against 
the Existence of God — Becomes an object of suspicion to his fellow 
Monks — Search made in his room for Heretical Books and Papers — 
Johnson's Dictionary convicted of Heresy — Ordination — Number 
of Orders in the Romish Church — In wliat the Candidate for Ordi- 
nation is examined — Character of IMonsignor Macioti, Suffragan- 
Bishop of Villetri — Episcopus in partibus. . . . 153 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Jealousies, and enmities of Monks of different orders — Reasons 
for entertaining such hostile feelings against each other — Sample 
of monkish lampoons — The immaculate conception of the Blessed 
Virgin — The Dominicans and Franciscans declare war against each 
other — Monkish imposture — Tragic story of Jctzer — The Ghost of 
a Dominican appears to him — Jetzer undergoes the discipline, in 
order to redeem his broth.er's soul from Purgatory — The Virgin 
Prior — Revelations made by the Virgin to Jetzer — He receives the 
five wounds that pierced Jesus ^n the Cross — Jetzer discovers the 
imposture — The Dominicans attempt to poison him — He flies from 
them, and seeks the protection of the civil authorites — The actors in 
the infernal plot burned alive — Jetzer's death — The use which the 
' Franciscans make of the foregoing Narrative — Number of religious 
Orders — How distinguished ti-om each other — Division of Monks 
— Number of the Clergy in the capital of Popery — Number ofBeg- 
g^ars 169 



CONTENTS. IX 



CHAPTER XIX, 



Kope of salvation placed in being buried in a Franciscan habit 
— Story of a soul saved from eternal damnation through the merits 
of Saint Francis— Emoluments derived by the monks from the po- 
pular superstitions — -Story of an heir, who was struck dead for de- 
frauding the Franciscans of their due — Ways practised hy monks 
for promoting their own interests — Their tampering with the fe- 
males of those families, over which they have acquired influence — 
Story in illustration of the foregoing — -Allurements held out to fe- 
males to enter Nunneries — Monkish treachery illustrated — A young 
gentleman"'s own account of the snares laid by monks for himself, 
and his sisters — One of his sisters dies of a broken heart, on disco- 
vering her mistake — Happy termination of the young man's mis- 
fortunes, , , , , . . . c , . 181 

CHAPTER XX, 

Adoration and prayers to Saints — Confirmed by the Council of 
Trent — Absurdity of that Doctrine — I mage- worship— Papists real- 
ly and truly idolaters — How they excuse themselves — -Adoration of 
the statue of Saint Januarius at Naples — Blasphemous prayer ad- 
dressed to Jesus Christ by the Neapolitans — Idol- worship practised 
by all false Religions— Modern Greeks and Romans inexcusable 
— History of the rise and progress of image-worship in the church 
of Christ — Image-worship abhorred by the Primitive church — Opin- 
ions of some of the early Fathers on thnt subject — Images of Saints 
admitted as ornaments in the Churches in the beginning of the fifth 
Century — Gregory the Great condemns image-worship— The monks 
of the eighth century establish image-worship by their own exam- 
ple — Edict of Leo, the Isaurian, concerning images — The Priests and 
Monks excite the people to liebellion, in consequence of it — Leo or- 
ders all images to be publicly burnt — Im.age-worship favoured by 
Popes — Iconoclastas, and Iconolatrge — Charlemagne declares against 
image-worship — Claudius, bishep of Turin, orders all images to 
be cast out of the Churches — Image-worship established bylaw in 
the eastern and western Churches, and triumphs, till the era of the 
Reformation — Effects of the reformatioa on image-worship . 201 

CHAPTER XXL 

Image worship in the nineteenth century — Statue of St Peter — 
Opinions, as to its identity with one of the pagan divinities of an- 
cient Rome — Story illustrating the vengeance, which it takes on 
those who dishonour it — Another, whereby it becomes clear that 
his brazen saintship has the power of protecting his devout wor- 
shippers—Reflections. ....... 214 

CHAPTER XXI I. 

Images of the Virgin Mary — La Santa Cassa di Loretto — Histo- 



X CONTENTS. 

Tj of the Holy House — Income of the priests atta.chcd to it — Sale 
of vermin — The miraculous imag-e of the Virgin Mary at Basil 
— Expedient of the priests for reviving the dying superstition — 
Letter of the Virgin Mary to a reformed clergyman — Notes ex- 
planatorj^ of the foregoing letter — Late repentance — Litany of 
the Virgin — St. Peter, gate-keeper of Heaven — Gulielmus — 
George — St. Anthony, protector of swine — Different offices as- 
signed to the crowd of saints in the popish calendar. — Reflec- 
tions. ........... 225 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Continuation of remarks upon image-worship — Popish unity — 
Madonna delta lettera, at Messina — TJie Virgin Mary a linguist — 
Copy of the Virgin's letter to the Messinians — Translation of the 
foregoing — Spain, and its idolatries — Spanish Jesuits — Spanish 
form of Salutations — Portugal — -Don Miguel favored by the Priests 
— A miracle wrought in confirmation of his authority — The Vir- 
gin delivered of a boy twelve years old — Effect of the discovery 
on Don Miguel's Government — Concluding remarks upon image- 
worship. .......... 241 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Relics — Practice of tlia primitive church — Relic- worship estab- 
lished by the pope — Manner of procuring saint-bodies — The 
three heads of Jolm the Baptist — The offal of the charnel-houses 
made the object of a Christian's adoration — St. Crispin of Viter- 
bo — St. Spiridione — Contest between the Greeks and Latins, for 
the possession of his body — Relic-worship at Malta — Maltese 
quack-doctor — Relics preserved in the church of St. John at Malta 
— Attempt to steal a relic — Anecdotes of the plague at Malta — 
Translation of a Saint's body from the catacombs^ at Rome to 
Malta — Stupendous miracle performed by touching the foregoing 
body — ^Reflections — Milk of the Virgin Mary — Shrine of Thomas 
a Becket at Canterbury — Henry VIII., and his myrmidons — 
Relation of the manner, in which the Virgin's milk found its 
way to the monastery of St. Mary's, near Falmouth — Conclud- 
ing remarks on relic worship 253 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Indulgences — When first granted — Leo X, publishes Indulgen- 
ces — Form of Indulgences — Language of Indulgence-mountebanks 
— Extract from the " Tax of the Sacred Roman Chancery." — 
Dispute between the Augustinians and Dominicans — Luther, 
and the Reformation — Galileo Galilei — Decline of Indulgences 
in Italy — The Pope grants Indulgences-r-gratis, because he 
could find no Purchasers — The Cruzada — Spaniards obliged, by 
the Secular Arm, to purchase Indulgences — Probable income of 



CONTENTS. XI 

the Pope from the sale of Indulgences in Spain — Bishops en- 
dowed with the power of granting- and selling Indulgences — Ob- 
liged to pay an annual rent to the Pope — A Bishop suspended 
from his functions, and confined to a Convent, hy reason of not 
being able to pay the Pope's rent. ..... 283 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Conscientious Bishops — Monsignor Gondolfi — Maronites — Mon- 
signor Gondolfi sent in the character of Apostohc Delegate to 
the Eastern Churches — Decline of Popery, and cause of that 
decline, among the Maronites — Gondolfi's Instructions — Cun- 
ning of His Holiness, cloaked under a love for the souls of the 
Maronites — Gondolfi's early Life — State of the Monks attach- 
ed to the Holy Sepulchre, at Jerusalem — Gondolfi endeavours 
to reform them — The Monks accuse him of heresy, at the 
Court of Rome — Obliged to be on his guard against the machi- 
nations of the Monks — He removes to Mount Libanus — State 
of the Maronite Clergy and People — Distribution of the Scrip- 
tures made by the Protestant Missionaries among the Maro- 
nites — The Maronite Clergy accuse Gondolfi, at Rome — He is 
recalled, but refuses to obey — He is expelled from the Convent 
— Arrival of his successor — Bibles burned by thousands — Gon- 
dolfi is poisoned by a Maronite Priest — The Maronites report 
that his death was caused by the vengeance of God — Indulgen- 
ces for committing Sin — Alexander VI — Massacre of St Bartholo- 
mew — Fra Paolo — Curious Theological Disquisition. . . 298 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

Departure from Rome — ^Refused permision to return to Ireland 
— Plan of escape — How executed — Arrival at Marseilles and Lyons 
— Geneva — Monsieur Cheneviere — Socinianism — English travel- 
lers on the continent of Europe — Rabbi M s, the converted 

Jew — His perfidy — Arrival in London — Treatment received from 
false and perfidious Friends. 322 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

State of religion in Malta — Number of Popish priests — Their ig. 
norance — Ignorance of the people — Bishop Caruana — Power of 
the pope in Malta — x4.necdote of a Maltese attorney — Doctor Naudi 
— Maltese medical college — Naudi's treachery — He is found out 
by an English missionary — Maltese monks — Number of monaste- 
ries in Malta — Pauiotists — Dominicans — Carmelites — Ignorance 
of the Maltese monks — Convent of Capuchins at Malta — Padre Pi- 
etro, the Ca{)uchin Custode — Padre Calcedonio — Story of a child vio- 
lated by him in Santa Maura — He is sent to the galleys — Remission 
of his sentence, through the influence of General Rivarola — Es- 
teemed as a saint by the Maltese. ..... 338 



Xll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

Continuation of remarks upon the Popish Clergy of Malta — Their 
general incontinency — Father Butler, chaplain to the English for- 
ces at Malta — Meaning of the initials " D. D. " affixed to his name 
— His mama for making proselytes — Sample of Popish Conversions 
— A Protestant converted to Popery after death — Another sample 
of Father Butler's way of making Proselytes — Father Butler ap- 
pears in a new character — Sir Dominick Ritual, and Sir Paul Text- 
book — Sir Dominick disgraces his Knighthood — Concluding re- 
marks on Popery in Malta. 356 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Rev. Mr. Lowndes, Protestant Missionary — Greek Priests at 
Corfu — State of Religion at Corfu — Popish Clergy and Aj-chbish- 
op — Conversation with the Popish Archbishop — His attempt to 
wheedle me again into Popery — My answer — Persecution by the 
Popish Priests, and its effect — Zante — Popish Priests at Zante — Mr. 
Croggon, the Wesley an Missionary — Letter from Smyrna to Mr. 
Lowndes — The Popish Priests attempt to poison me — Effects of 
the poison — Departure from Zante^Arrival at Smyrna — Conclu- 
sion 367 



SIX YEARS 



IN THE 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &c. 



CHAPTER I. 



Introduction — The Author's birth and education — Dedication of 
children — Evil effects thereof^ — Two instances — First confession 
— Its effects on the Author's mind — The Capuchin Superior in 
Ireland — Meddling of Priests in private families. 

The religion of Rome, miscalled Catholic, a short 
history of which, as it exists in the monasteries and 
other Popish institutions of Italy and the Islands of 
the Mediterranean, will form the subject of this 
book, is so well guarded by the passions — the at- 
tendants of human nature — that it requires more 
than an ordinary effort of the human mind to free 
itself from its galling trammels. It is indeed the 
religion of hum^an nature, whether it be regarded in 
a temporal or spiritual light. If in the latter, the 
influence exercised over the minds of its members 
by a wily priesthood, and the dangerous security, 
so different from the Gospel fear and tremblings 
into which they are lulled by the organs of confes- 
sion, and forgiveness by the mouth of a priest, ful- 
ly prove that human nature is only flattered by its 
operations : if in the former, the numerous ceremo- 
1 



2 SIX YEARS IN THE 

nies so pleasing to the senses, the superstitious ve- 
neration in which its clergy are held, and the op- 
portunities possessed by them of reconciling the 
people to every passing event, and which opportu- 
nities they never let slip ; all these form separate 
and convincing proofs, that human nature is the 
foundation stone, on which the Romish church is 
built. The foregoing reflections were strongly 
brought to my mind, whilst considering my ow^n 
peculiar case, and the difficulties I had to struggle 
with before embracing the blessed and consoling 
doctrine of justification through the all-atoning blood 
of Jesus Christ. To break not only through the 
prejudices of education, but also to set at defiance 
the workings of the passions by which the church 
of Rome is upheld, is, all must confess, no easy 
matter. How I have been able to accomplish that 
great task will be seen in the sequel. To the histo- 
ry of my early life, though it may contain many 
things, which worldly prudence would consider as 
best kept in my own bosom, 3^et as it is a picture — 
a faithful one too — of the education of Roman Ca- 
tholic children in Ireland, and especially of those 
destined for the priesthood, I have no hesitation to 
give publicity. 

I was born in the city of C , Ireland. My 

father was a corn-merchant of that city, respectably 
connected, though not rich. 1 am the last of five 
children, and was destined for the church from the 
hour of my birth. I say, destined; for strange as it 
may appear, such a custom of setting apart young 
children for the service of the church, prevailed 
and still prevails in Ireland, as well as in most parts 
of popish Europe. The child's vocation is never 
consulted, and how could it be, when his future pro- 
fession is marked out, whilst he is yet an infant, and 
unable to judge for himself ? If, however, he should 



MONASTEKIES OF ITALY, &C. 3 

refuse, when arrived at the ao;e of understanding, to 
fulfil what his father had promised,* he is looked 
upon, not only by the members of his own family, 
but also by his neighbours and acquaintances, as one 
living in a state of alienation from God, and as one, 
who never can have any success in the transactions 
of ihe world. I knew in Italy a young man — he 
belonged to Albano,a town in the papal states — who, 
not coming to the aoe of understandinor till after his 
father's death, thought proper to consult his own in- 
clinations, and to decline the honor of the priest- 
hood, though his father, at his birth, had dedicated 
him to the church. Wishing afterwards to enter 
into the married state, he could find no young wo- 
man, his equal in rank, who could be prevailed up- 
on to unite her lot with his. He was once on the 
point of being married to one of a neighbouring 
town, but when she came to the knowledge of his 
having been destined by his father for the priest- 
hood, she immediately broke off the match, although 
he was possessed of a handsome fortune, and very 
well able to maintain her respectably. All are taught 
that a curse from on high would fall either on them- 
selves or their children, should they unite themselves 
to one, promised from his infancy to God. I knew 
another — his name was Papi — , a young man of a 
most prepossessing appearance, and possessed of a 
cultivated mind, who, refusing to become a priest, 
was absolutely turned adrift on the world by his fa- 
ther, and all this, because the latter had promised 
him to God from his infancy. Starvation at length 
obliged him to succumb to his father's wishes, and he 
was sacrificed — another unwilling victim — at the mon- 
strous shrine of popular superstition. 1 saw him 

* The selecting of a new-born child for the priesthood is con- 
sidered as a vow, or promise. 



4 SIX YEARS IN THE 

after his ordination, and he had no diificulty in com- 
plaining to me of the cruelty of his parents, who 
obliged him to embrace a profession for which he 
had no vocation. I could mention many other ca- 
ses of this nature, which fell under my own obser- 
vation, but the two related will be sufficient to show 
the evil effects necessarily following the dedication 
of children. 

My father, however, had no occasion to threaten 
me with such extremes, for I never resisted, but, on 
the contrary, w^as rather desirous of entering the 
church, though indeed had I murmured against ful- 
filliiig his vow, I am almost certain, that he, although 
the kindest and best of fathers, would have treated 
me with the same rigour, with which my friend Papi 
had been treated by his; — such power have supersti- 
tion and the erroneous ideas of religion over even 
the best minds. 

It being then understood, that I was destined for 
the church, my earliest notions were formed by 
priests. Every moment I could spare from my 
studies was spent either with them, or in some place 
under their direction. At ten years of age, I was 
taught to babble the answering of mass in Latin, and 
obliged to remain daily two or three hours at the 
Chapel, as Roman Catholic churches are called in 
Ireland. Sunday was a day of trouble to me — not 
of devotion ; being forced to spend nearly the whole 
day serving masses, of which 1 very soon grew tired. 
Indeed, there was nothing in the repeating of words 
in Latin — a language I did not then understand, 
which could make amends for the trouble, and I of- 
ten longed to be as free as my other brothers, who 
not being intended for the church, were allowed to 
divert themselves with their equals. The time for 
making my first confession now approached. 1 shall 
for ever remember, with what a palpitating heart I 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 5 

first approached the seat of judgment — the confes- 
sional — called by Romanists "the tribunal of pen- 
ance/^ Howmyyoung inexperienced heart,impres3- 
ed with an exalted idea of the priest's power of for- 
giving sin, sank within me, as i knelt down at the 
feet of him, who, I was led to believe, represented 
the person of Jesus Christ. It remains still impress- 
ed on my mind, with what an authoritative tone of 
voice he questioned me on my most secret thoughts, 
reproving me for this and giving penance for that; 
and how happy I felt, and how free from all care, 
when he pronounced in Latin the form of absolu- 
tion. Yes, if an ignorance of my lost sinful state, 
and a reliance on man for salvation, can be called 
happiness, I was then happy indeed. But was my 
heart changed in the mean time? Or did I feel a 
detestation of sin, and love the Lord Jesus for his 
own sake? Quite the contrary! 1 never thought 
about the necessity of a change of heart ; and my 
prayers were, by the advice of my Father Confessor, 
addressed to the Virgin and the Saints, and not to 
Him, who alone is able to grant the humble peni- 
tent a true sorrow for sin, and to inflame his mind 
with a holy love for Himself. So far from feeling 
a sorrovv for sin, my ambition was only excited the 
more to become a priest, and thereby become vest- 
ed with the extraordinary power of forgiving the 
sins of others; thinking at the same time, that if I 
once had possession of the super-human power of 
forgiving others, I could also, a fortiori^ forgive my- 
self, without being indebted to another person for 
that favor. Such were my peculiar feelings after 
my first confession, and such, I am confident, are the 
feelings of the greater number of Roman Catholics 
under similar circumstances. 

Having now nearly reached my sixteenth year, 
and having acquired as much Latin and Greek at a 

1* 



SIX YEARS IN THE 

preparatory school, as was deemed sufficient for ad- 
mittance to College, it began to be debated upon in 
the family circle, whether I should go to Maynooth, 
or rather be sent to Rome. The latter place was 
preferred ; and the reason it was so, it may perhaps 
be necessary to mention here. It will give the pro- 
testant reader some idea of the influence exercised 
by priests in those families with which they are in- 
timate. 

A Capuchin friar. Provincial of the order in Ire- 
land, was a frequent visiter at my father's house. 
He took particular notice of me, of course, as one 
destined to become a priest one day himself. He 
even, at my father's request, often examined me in 
the Latin grammar, and cried out "bravo, bravo,^^ 
if I could conjugate amo^ or decline 7nnsa, He 
took care, however, never to go farther in his exami- 
nations than the grammar, the reason for which I 
never could learn, unless it be, which is not impro- 
bable, that he knew no farther himself. When the 
subject of my removal to college began to be de- 
bated upon, he also gave his opinion, and of course 
decided in favour of his own order. The going so 
far from home (it being necessary to go to Rome, in 
order to become a member of his order) was for 
some time objected to; but he being my father's con- 
fessor soon overruled that objection, by laying open 
the respectability of his order, and the powerful in- 
tercession of its founder St. Francis, and the happi- 
ness of having a son so intimately connected with the 
holy patriarcli. These weighty reasons met with 
due attention from my father, and all thoughts of 
going to Maynooth college were soon laid aside, and 
preparations were immediately made for my jour- 
ney to Rome. I was not, at this time, old enough 
to see into the reason, that the old friar was so anx- 
ious that I should Join his order, but I afterwards 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 7 

suspected it, when I became aware, that the remit- 
tances of money sent to me by my father, passed 
through his hands. It is reasonable then to suppose, 
that he did not want for excuses to apply some of it 
to his own private use. Whether he has done so, 
or not, I cannot assert with an}^ certainty; but this I 
am sure of, that I never received more than two- 
thirds of what my father, as I learned from his let- 
ters, had committed to him for my use. The defi- 
ciency was accounted for, by his being obliged to 
pay the postage of letters, sent by his friends in 
Rome, relative to me, and by his sending them some 
presents, to encourage them to continue their friend- 
ship and protection of me. I once complained to my 
father by letter of this deficiency, but the above rea- 
sons of the old friar's soon quieted him. To do him 
justice, he gave me a great many letters to his pri- 
vate friends at Rome, where he had studied himself 
some thirty years before, strongly recommending 
me to their friendship. He also in his capacity of 
superior of the order in Ireland, gave me an ubbe- 
dienza (so letters of admission into a monastery are 
called) directed to the General of the whole order 
at Rome. I would not be so particular in the rela- 
tion of the foregoing circumstances had I not 
thought, that they show the Jesuitical pranks of 
priests, and the unworthy use they make of their in- 
fluence over the minds of their deluded followers. 



SIX YEARS IN THE 



CHAPTER II. 

Departure for Rome — My father's last words at parting — Reflec- 
tions — Arrival in Paris — French clerg-y — State of religion, in 
France — Disrespect shown to the Clergy by th^ French — An in- 
stance of it — Lyons — Conversation with an inkeeper — His de- 
scription of French religion — French Protestants — Church of 
Lyons — Arians — Conversion of 1500 Papists — Their return to 
Popery — For what reason — Present revivals. 

The day fixed for my departure at length arrived, 
and with a heart torn asunder by the contending 
emotions of joy and sorrow; joy for the sure pros- 
pect held out of arriving at the goal of my wishes, 
sorrow, for leaving my father and mother and those, 
who were dearest to me, I embarked in my native 
city for Bristol — thence to proceed to Southampton, 
where I was to find the regular packet for Havre-de 
Grace, and then proceed by land to Rome. My 
father's last words to me, spoken, whilst I was in 
the act of going aboard the steamer, will ever remain 
indelibly fixed in my memory. Tiiey were these, 
*' Return a priest ^ or never let me see you again.^^ 
What words from the kindest and best of fathers! 
Without considering, whether on further examina- 
tion, I would feel inclined for such a profession, or 
whether I would not be rendered miserable all my 
life, if 1 acted in that respect contrary to my own in- 
clinations, he laid his positive injunction upon me 
'' to return a priesV^ under pain of perpetual exile 
from him, and from those dearest to me. Yet he 
was the kindest and best of fathers in other respects; 
indeed in every thing, where the influence of the 
Roman Catholic religion did not enter. But where 
that was in any way concerned, he always re- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 9 

gulated his actions by the advice of the priests, and 
especially his confessor's; wlio, to be sure, with the 
true spirit of their church, gave that advice which 
they thought most likely to promote ils well-being; 
regardless, whether this advice would not sow dis- 
sensions in families, and set father against son, and 
wnfe against husband. — But such, it is well known, 
is popish morality. 

Upon my arrival at Havre, I immediately took a 
place in the diligence for Paris, which Capital, if 1 
w^ell remember, I reached after a journey of two 
days. I had letters for some Irish students and 
priests in the Irish college at Paris, and my first 
care, after my arrival, was to deliver them. 

The greater part of these strongly advised me, not 
to go to Rome, telling me many stories of the hard- 
ships, which I probably would have to endure there; 
and of the very many, who went there, on the same 
purpose as myself, but who returned before the ex- 
piration of a year, having made shipwreck of their 
faith and vocation. To all this I turned a deaf 
ear, being determined, whatever would be the con- 
sequence, to continue my journey and judge for my- 
self when arrived at Rome. Perhaps also, my fa- 
ther's parting admonition helped me on to this de- 
cision. The disrespect with which the clergy are 
treated in France, and especially in Paris, very much 
surprised me. I had no idea that the men, who in 
Ireland are esteemed as demi-gods, could in France 
be exposed to the insults, not only of the common 
people, but also of the higher ranks, who forget that 
politeness natural to every Frenchman, when a 
priest is in question. I remember, whilst walking 
one day in the neighbourhood of the Palais Royal 
at Paris, to have seen a great crowd collected in one 
spot. I went to see what was the matter. I saw an 
unfortunate man, whom I knew to be a priest from 



10 SIX YEARS IN THE 

his dress, stretched in the street, and bleeding pro- 
fusely, a carriage having thrown him down, and 
passed over one of his legs, whilst he w^as passing 
from one side of the street to the other. I'lie crowd 
collected around him, rich and poor as they were, 
stood laughing at him, and seemingly rejoiced at 
his misfortune. He was unable to walk, so dread- 
fully was he bruised and mangled. Now, if the 
same accident had happened in Ireland to one of the 
same character, there is not a Roman Catholic, or 
Protestant either, I believe, in the country that 
would not feel honored in bcariiigon his own shoul- 
ders to his house, the unfortunate sufferer. I men- 
tion this anecdote, in order to give some idea of the 
hatred and detestation in which priests are held in 
France. On relating the occurrence to my friends 
at the Irish college, they only made a laugh of it, 
saying that 1 was but yet a stranger in France, but 
vs^ere I to remain long in the country, I would soon 
become familiarized to such scenes. Indeed, 'they 
told me seriously, that there is more respect ia 
France for the commonest porter that parades the 
streets in search of a load, than for a priest, however 
learned and pious. To one lately come from Ire- 
land, called by the French priests, when comparing 
their own state with that of their Irish brethren, "le 
paridisdes pretres'' — the priests' paradise; such sto- 
ries must have appeared wonderfully strange, yet, 
in the course of my travels through other depart- 
ments of France, I found, that they were literal- 
ly true. Whilst at Lyons, where I remained 
some days, before crossing the Alps into Italy, I 
put up at one of the hotels — the " hotel des Etats 
Unis^^ I believe it was called — Entering one even- 
ing into conversation with mine host, he asked me, 
what was my profession, and for what object I was 
going to Italy? I told him the plain truth. He 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 11 

then began sacre-'ing all the priests in the world, 
calling thejn a parcel of knaves and impostors, and 
told me plainly, that if I were not going away the 
following day, he should be under the necessity of 
requesting me to find another hotel, for he would 
not have his house contaminated by the presence of 
even an intended priest. He assured me, " that if 
a priest dared enter his house, he would throw him 
out through the window, lest the respectability of 
his hotel should be injured, if it were known 
abroad, that it had sheltered so detestable an animal 
as a priest." I asked him, if he were a Roman Ca- 
tholic? " I am,^^ he replied, " because my father 
was one, but I never go to mass, nor are there one 
hundred people in the town, who ever go to it." 
He added, that they remain Roman Catholics, be- 
cause their fathers were so before them, but that 
Ihey never follow any of the foolish doctrines of 
priests. It may perhaps be suspected, that this man 
was a solitary instance, and ti^at he did not speak 
the truth, when he told me — perhaps, in order to 
deter me from becoming a priest — that his fellow- 
townsmen were like himself. But farther inquiry 
fully convinced me, that he had spoken almost lite- 
rally the truth, and I appeal to any traveller from 
this country, who may have taken the trouble to 
inquire about the state of religion in France, for the 
truth of his assertions and of his representations. 
So great is the disrespect in which the French Pa- 
pist clergy are held by their countrymen, that no 
one of any qualifications by which he could earn a 
subsistence in any other way, would become one. 
The lame, the crippled, the stammerer, those who 
have not the spirit, or who are not able to earn, a 
subsistence by labour, in fine, those of the lowest 
grades in society, compose the greater number of 
the modern French clergy. If there be any thing 



12 SIX YEARS IN THE 

like Christianity in France, it is to be found only 
among the few Protestants scattered throuj>;h the 
country, and not, by any means, among the Roman 
Catholic population. A great many of the latter, 
pass through life without any sense of religion, and 
totally ignorant of the first principles of Christianity. 
The Roman Catholic churches, though opened for 
form-sake every day, are almost empty, there being 
many Frenchmen, who never saw the inside of a 
church, even through curiosity, during a long life. 
With some classes, infidelity is no longer the fashion. 
These make a show of religion, because they are un- 
willing to be thought unbelievers; yet, if their creed 
be examined, they will be found to have as little 
belief in the doctrines of Christianity, as those who 
make open profession of infidelity. The prevalent 
opinion among all classes is, that when a man dies, 
there is an end to him. They believe not in the 
immortality of the soul, yet some, to keep up the 
appearance of religion, are not unobservant of popish 
superstitions. There have always been Protestants 
at Lyons, St. Etienne and Chalons; but their in- 
tercourse with Roman Catholics has plunged them 
into the same state of irreligion as the latter, so that 
they retain nothing of Protestants but the name. 
They are nearly as far gone in infidelity as their po- 
pish fellow-countrymen, and have the same disre- 
gard for the religious education of their children. 
The Protestants of Lyons were wholly Socinians till 
within a few years back. The theological colleges, 
in which the pastors are educated, though very ef- 
fective as far as learning goes, inculcate the Arian 
doctrines. When the divinity of the Saviour is de- 
nied, a disregard for the incalculable importance of 
his mission necessarily follows. An indifference 
about the gospel comes next, and from this the 
transition to absolute infidelity is very easy. Most 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 13 

French Protestants, have been brought up in early 
life without any worship at all, and thereby becom- 
ing almost all pure rationalists, they countenance the 
church, more because they cannot do without the 
rites of marriage, baptism, and sepulture, than for 
any more cogent reasons. 

in the year 1826, on the occasion of the law of 
sacrilege being promulgated in France, fifteen hun- 
dred Roman Catholics abandoned popery and at- 
tached themselves to the Protestant church of France 
— that is, to Arianism. The greater part of these 
returned to popery before the expiration of a year, 
and it would be a great wonder if they had not; for 
surely a religion so flattering to human nature as 
popery is, which lulls the conscience to sleep, and 
satisfies the religious propensities without taxing it, 
must have appeared infinitely preferable to the com- 
mon-place morality and frigid worship of those who 
deny the fundamental doctrine of Christianity — the 
divinity of its founder; which, if it be not a sine 
qua non^ an essential article of a Christian's belief, 
Christianity itself is nothing better than a cunningly 
devised fable, put together to answer the purposes 
of designing men. The Protestant religion is re- 
viving in France very much within these two years. 
Evangelical churches are established in many of the 
principal cities, and even Lyons itself, as much the 
hot-bed of Arianism as Geneva, has now to glory in 
no small number of devoted, pious Christians. These 
with their minister were expelled from the only 
house of Protestant worship that existed at Lyons; 
but they met afterwards in private houses, and con- 
tinued to do so, till their numbers increased, and 
they had been able to raise suflBcient funds to build 
a church for themselves. They have now one large 
enough to contain the primitive flock, and also those 
2 



14 SIX YEARS IN THE 

who, attracted by the force of gospel truth, are daily 
uniting themselves to them, and deserting from the 
ranks of popery, Arianism, and infidelity. 



CHAPTER III. 

Arrival at Rome — Cardinal Micara, General of the Capuchins — 
How received by him — The Lay-brother cicerone — In what de- 
partment of cariosities he excelled — Removal to Frascati — De- 
scription of Frascati and its environs — Reception — The English 
not Christians — How explained — Italian civility to strangers — 
Taking the habit — Ceremonies used on that occasion. 

It is foreign to the design of the present work to 
give an account of my journey, and a description of 
the different countries tlirough which I passed on 
the route from Paris to Rome. Be it sufficient, then, 
to state, that 1 arrived in the latter city in about 
three months after my departure from Ireland. The 
journey is generally made in twenty days by those 
who are travelling on urgent business, but mine not 
being of that stamp, I stopped for some days in the 
different towns on the road. I rested five or six 
days at Turin, the first Italian tow^n met with after 
descending from the Alps — and the capital of Pied- 
inont. The road afterw^ards lay through Alexandria, 
Genoa, Leghorn, Florence, &c., in each of which 
towns I remained some few^ days. Upon my arrival 
at Rome, I presented my letters and other cre- 
dentials to the general of the Capuchins, who was 
just created a cardinal a few weeks before my ar- 
rival, by Leo XII., the then reigning pontiff*. I be- 
lieve he is still living, or, at least, was about six 
months ago. His name is Cardinal Micara, a native 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 15 

of Frascati, and esteemed the most learned theolo- 
gian of Rome. He is easily distinguished from the 
other cardinals, on account of his wearing a long, 
shaggy beard, and mustaches, of which he seems to 
be very proud. I was received by him with very 
great kindness. He ordered a room to be imme- 
diately prepared for me in the convent, w^hich I was 
to occupy during my stay at Rome; giving me, at 
the same time, to understand, that it was necessary 
for me to proceed to Frascati — the ancient Tuscu- 
lum — to serve my novitiate. He, however, allowed 
me the space of three weeks to see Rome and its 
curiosities before my departure; giving orders to 
one of the lay-brothers to accompany me to the dif- 
ferent places I wished to see. My lay-brother, 
however, proved a bad cicerone; for, although a 
Roman by birth, he knew as much about the real 
curiosities of ancient or modern Rome as a native of 
Otaheite. I had a great desire to see some of those 
places, which were rendered familiar to me by read- 
ing the Roman classics, but of these, alas! my 
cicerone knew as much as the man in the moon. 
He made ample amends, however, for his ignorance 
of those things by an extensive knowledge of all the 
miraculous images of the Madonna, of the different 
crucifixes, of the relics of the saints, of the churches, 
where so many days' indulgences may be obtained, 
and the redemption of so many souls from purga- 
tory, and all for the trouble of reciting a "pater 
noster.'^ — But of these things, more in the sequel. 
After having seen a few churches, and some miracle- 
working relics, 1 grew tired; and having purchased 
"The Stranger's Guide through Rome," 1 sallied 
forth alone, and by the help of it, satisfied in some 
degree my curiosity. 

The time allowed me for the gratification of my 
curiosity being now expired, T was summoned one 



16 SIX YEARS IN THE 

morning very early to the presence of his eminence, 
the cardina]. He received me with his usual kind- 
ness, and laughed very heartily when I related to 
him in French, which he spoke very fluently, the 
ciceronic lay-brother's want of knowledge in Roman 
antiquities. He told me, that I would have time 
enough to examine Rome, both ancient and modern, 
after my year's novitiate was ended, and that, until 
then, I should go to Frascati,and put on the seraphic 
habit — so the Franciscan habit is called. He earnest- 
ly advised me to apply myself to the study of 
Italian, and gave me an Italian grammar, and an 
Anglo-Italian dictionary, for that purpose. Holding 
out his hand to be kissed, and giving me his bene- 
diction, he then dismissed me, telling me to hold 
myself in readiness for my departure at four o'clock 
that same evening. The distance from Rome to 
Frascati, being only twelve miles, 1 soon arrived 
there; having already made up my mind to perse- 
vere in the primary intention, for which 1 had left 
my own country, whatever might be the conse- 
quence, or whatever the difficulties I should have to 
contend with. As Frascati and its neighbourhood 
was the scene of many of the occurrences which 
will be hereafter related, it may not be thought 
irrelative to give a hasty description of them. 

Frascati is situated in the Campagna di Roma, 
about twelve miles distant from the holy city. It 
is built nearly on the site of the ancient Tusculum, 
so well known as the place in which Cicero wrote 
his '' Questiones Tusculanse.'^ The ruins of Tuscu- 
lum, which are still extant, are about two miles from 
the modern city, yet it is supposed that the former, 
in the time of its ancient splendour, extended as far 
as the plain, in which the latter is now built. It 
commands a fine view of the surrounding country, 
especially from the Capuchin convent — the one in 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 17 

which I resided. There are in its immediate neigh- 
bourhood several splendid villas belonging to the Ro- 
man nobility, the principal of which are il palazzo 
Borghese^ belonging to the prince of that name, 
who seldom or never lives in it; il palazzo Fal- 
conieri, which is let out as a summer residence to 
English travellers, or to any other foreigners that 
are willing to pay for it; and the RofanellOj the 
late residence of Lucien Buonaparte for a number 
of years. At the distance of eight miles towards 
the Apennines is placed Tivoli, which, whatever 
may have been its grandeur in the time of Roman 
greatness, is now but an insignificant village. On 
the same direction, but nearer to Frascati, is the 
town called after the family of the Porzia, " Monte 
Porzio,'^ so abominably filthy, that the inhabitants 
themselves, punning on the name, call it " monte 
dei porcV^ — pig-mountain. On the other side of 
Frascati, and towards the sea, are Rocca di Papa^ 
Rocca Priore, Monte Conipetri — all insignificant 
villages, and distinguished for nothing but dirt and 
monasteries — one of which, very celebrated, is built 
on the top of a high mountain overhanging the vil- 
lage of Rocca di Papa. It belongs to ihefrati delta 
passione^ or j:fassion-7nonks, so called from their 
wearing on their habits a picture representing the 
passion of Christ. Would it not be better, and more 
scriptural, for them to have Christ's passion im- 
printed on their hearts? — But they think otherwise. 
Having presented the general's letter to the local 
superior of Frascati, I was admitted into the con- 
vent under the character of a postulante — a name 
given to those who, not being yet dressed in the 
habit, wish to be sure whether their vocation 
would continue after having observed more closely 
the manners and customs of the monks. I saw 
nothing during the time — about two months — 



18 SIX YEARS IN THE 

I remained in this way, which could cause me to 
repent of my undertaking, or deter me from em- 
bracing the order. On the contrary, every thing 
seemed carried on according to the strictest rules of 
propriety. I was treated by the superior and the 
other monks with very great kindness and attention, 
approaching ahnost to affection; the former fre- 
quently taking me as his umbra, or shade, to dine 
at some gentleman^s house, of which he was the 
spiritual director; whilst the latter ahiiost daily ac- 
companied me through the villas and palaces of the 
neighbourhood, to all of which they had a free and 
easy access, by reason of their monastic profession 
and the respect paid to it. In this way, two months 
passed over very agreeably, and, at the end of that 
time, my desire of joining the order was more ardent 
than before. The Italians in general are very oblig- 
ing to strangers, especially to those strangers from 
whom they expect some advantage. The Italian 
monks are particularly so to those coming to unite 
themselves to their order, especially if they be 
foreigners; for it is thought, that it adds to the re- 
spectability of the order, and gives it distinction in 
the eyes of the public, to have a great number of 
foreigners attached to it. The hope, also, of esta- 
blishing convents, and propagating the Roman Ca- 
tholic religion through their means in foreign parts, 
may be another motive for treating foreigners with 
more than usual kindness. It was a long time since 
the order counted any students from that heretical 
country, England, (as they generally call it,) among 
its numbers, and therefore it fell to my lot to be 
looked upon with more than usual interest. The 
superior once inquired of me, if my father and mother 
were Christians? — a question which somewhat start- 
led me, but which he afterwards modified, by ask- 
ing, if they were Roman Catholics? I was not then 



MONASTERIES OP ITALY, &C. 19 

aware that no Protestants, and more especially, no 
English Protestants, whom they honour so far as to 
call the " worst ofheretics^^ were esteemed by them 
Christians. I answered in the affirmative. He then 
inquired closely into the state of the Roman Catho- 
lic religion in England and Ireland, and of the num- 
ber of monasteries in those countries; wondering 
very much that so very few young men came from 
Ireland now-a-days to join his order; whereas, when 
he was a young man, and in the beginning of his 
ecclesiastical career — he was at this time about fifty- 
five — there were a great many young Irishmen his 
fellow-students at Rome. He lamented, with ap- 
pearance of great grief, the falling off of that once 
holy kingdom — the insula sanctorum — from the 
true faith, through the apostac}" (as he termed it) of 
Henry VIH., and of Anna Boieyn. He then, turn- 
ing to the other monks, who stood listening with 
open mouths, related the old thread-bare story of the 
conversion of England by Austin, the monk, w^ho 
was sent thither by the then Holy Father (the pope) 
Gregory; not forgetting the equally old story of 
Venerable Bede's, about " non Angli, sed angeli, si 
tantum Christiani fuissent'' — "not English, but 
angels, if they were but Christians'' — which must 
be familiar to every reader. 

The time for my taking the habit now drew nigh, 
and, it being rumoured through the town, that an 
Englishman was about to become a novice in the 
Capuchin order, the church was crowded to excess 
on the day appointed. The evening before, I made 
a general confession of the sins of my whole life to 
the superior, and was directed to look to the Madon- 
na and entreat her intercession, in order to have the 
absolution, pronounced by him, the unworthy mi- 
nister of God, (his own words) here on earth, rati- 
fied in Heaven. The ceremonies usually practised 



20 SIX YEARS IN THE 

on giving the habit to a novix^e, having in them some- 
thing that may appear strange to the generality of 
readers in this country, it will not be thought foreign 
to the subject to describe them. • 

The superior, having put on the vestments used 
for celebrating mass, comes to the altar, attended by 
a deacon, subdeacon, and acolothists, and addresses 
the congregation, stating the occasion of the cere- 
mony and perhaps also giving (as he did in my case) 
a brief history of the postulant. He then endea- 
vours to draw a moral from the history and to hold 
up the subject of it, as one worthy of imitation. 
After this he begins the mass, and proceeds with it 
as far as the Gospel, when the postuhmt is brought 
forward by the deacon, dressed in as gaudy attire, 
as can be procured for the occasion. The postu- 
lant prostrates himself at the foot of the altar, and 
at the feet of the superior, who bids him, in Latin, 
to arise and proclaim aloud what he wanted from 
the church of God. The questions and answers, 
used on this occasion, and of wMiich the novice is 
warned beforehand, are here subjoined in the ori- 
ginal Latin, with a literal translation for the satisfac- 
tion of those, who do not understand that language: 

Qiies. Quid petis ab ecclesia Dei ? 

Res. Habitum Sancti Francisci. 

Ques, Quare habitum Sancti Francisci petis? 

Bes, Ut animam salvem. 

Ques, Quis te excitavit mundum fugere, et teip- 
sum Deo sub regula Sancti Francisci vovere? 

Res. NuUus ab externo : sed tantum sponte, Spi- 
ritu Sancto cooperante, hujus mundi pericula vidi, 
et ut ea facillus fugerem, sub regula Sancti Francisci 
militare volo. 

Translation of the foregoing, 

Ques, What do you seek from the church of 
God? 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 21 

Jin, The habit of Saint Francis! 

Ques, Why do you seek the habit of St. Fran- 
cis? 

nAn, In order to save my soul. 

Ques, What has excited you to flee from the 
world, and to dedicate yourself to God under the 
rule of St. Francis? 

Jin. Nothing outwardly: but of my own accord, 
and through the Inspiration of the Holy Spirit, I 
have seen the dangers of the world, and in order to 
more easily escape them, I wish to be a soldier un- 
der the rule of St. Francis. 

The postulant is then stripped of his finery by 
the deacon and attendants, whilst the habit with 
which he is about to be clad, is placed before the 
superior on a silver salver, in order to be blessed by 
him and sprinkled with holy water. The blessing 
of the habit, which takes up five or six minutes, be- 
ing finished, it is then handed over to the deacon, 
who puts it over the head and' shoulders of the pos- 
tulant, who kneels down to receive it, in token of 
greater devotion ; the superior in the mean time re- 
peating the following: Sancti Francisci habitus 
ab onini Diaboli impetu te custodial ! May 
the habit of St. Francis guard you from all attacks of 
the Devil. Then a cord, of about half an inch in 
diameter, is produced, which after having gone 
through the form of being blessed, is tied around 
the sides of the novice ; the superior repeating these 
w^ords : Sancti Francisci cingula te ab onini li- 
bidine custodial^ et te faciat castum anima et 
corpore. May the girdle or cord of St. Francis 
guard you from lust, and render you chaste in soul 
and bod}^ — to all which prayers, the attendants an- 
swer — Amen. The mass is then continued, till af- 
ter the communion, when the novice is again brought 
forward by the deacon to receive the sacrament, 



22 SIX YEARS IN THE 

which he does from the hands, or rather the fingers 
of the superior, who says, w^hilst in the act of put- 
ting the wafer into his mouth: Corpus Domini 
nostriy Jesu Christi^ custodial animam tuam in 
vitam eternarn, — Jimen. May the body of our 
Lord Jesus Christ keep your soul for eternal life. 
Annen. The mass is, after this, finished, and the 
choir chaunt the psalm '' Ecce qxiain bonum, et 
quam jucundum habitare^ fratres^ in luiuvi,^^ 
Behold ! what a pleasing, and virtuous thing it is, 
brothers, to live together; w'hilst the newly vested 
novice is receiving the kiss of peace from his future 
brethren, who say, whilst kissing him "Pax tibi, 
f rater ckarissime^^ — peace be with you, dearest 
brother. The day of giving the habit to a novice is 
observed by the monks as a day of feasting and re- 
joicing. A sumptuous dinner is prepared for the 
occasion, and the friends and benefactors of the con- 
vent are invited to partake of it. The monks exer- 
cise their talents for poetry by composing some pie- 
ces to be recited in the refectory during dinner, in 
praise of a monastic life, or in praise of the novice. 
Thus the day passes over amidst mirth and feasting, 
whilst the new^-made monk retires to his room, ful- 
ly content with his condition, and enthusiastic in 
his admiration of the manner of life he had that 
day chosen. Happy for him, if he continue so, or 
if he repent not before the expiration of a few 
months ! 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 23 



CHAPTER IV. 

Rule of St. Francis — Reasons for being unable to obtain a sight 
of it before receiving the Habit — Tradition attached to it — Fran- 
cis' conversation with the miraculous Crucifix — Pope Honorius 
— Canonically elected popes — Infallibility — Lents — Wonderful 
change of flesh — meat into fish. 

Being now clad in the livery of St. Francis, a 
book containing the rales, and constitutions of the 
order was placed at my disposal. Such a book, I 
often before wished to see, and even begged a loan 
of it, more than once, from the superior, but my re- 
quest, though not flatly refused, was always evaded. 
They never show — such is their polic}^ — -the rules of 
the order to the uninitiated, or to those not clad in 
their habit, fearing I suppose, that they might be in- 
jured in the public estimation, if the public became 
aware of the little harmony there is existing be- 
tween what they are, and what they ought to be, if 
they practised the rules laid down by their founder 
Francis. Be this as it may, I never could get a 
sight of the book containing these rules, until a few 
days after I had taken the habit, and when the monks 
well knew, in the event of my not liking them, that 
I had gone too far to retract with honor, though in- 
deed I was still at liberty, and would be so for one 
year yet to come, until the day of my solemn pro- 
fession, to retire from the order. 

There is a tradition attached to this book of rules, 
which will occasion a smile on the countenance of 
the reader. This is it; St. Francis, whilst fleeing 
from his father, who Vv^as very unwilling that his son 
should become a saint, retired for concealment to a 



24 SIX YEARS IN THE 

mountain in the neighbourhood of Assisi, his native 
town. There he engaged in prayer and fasting for 
the space of forty days, say some, four only, say 
others — but it is all the same, there being as much 
truth in one, as in the other. At the end of the 
forty, or four days, the crucifix before which he 
knelt, disengaging one of its hands from the wood 
to which it was nailed, suddenly became animated, 
and began to harangue Francis and commanded him 
to institute ^n order, for which a rule had been 
written in Heaven. An angel then appeared, and 
depositing a book in the hands of the crucifix again 
vanished. The crucifix then stretched out and de- 
livered the book to Francis, and immediately re- 
turned to its former position — an inanimate piece of 
wood. The foregoing story, carrying, as it does in 
itself, its own contradiction, is, nevertheless, often 
made the subject of a sermon in the Franciscan pul- 
pits; and so eagarly is the marvellous swallowed 
by a superstitious, uneducated peasantry, it has been 
the cause of bringing a great deal of wealth to the 
order, and of extolling it in the eyes of the public. 
It is frequently related in the confessional, (where 
I for the first time heard it) by the monks to their 
penitents, and it is often believed by the narrators 
themselves, in the same way as habitual liars some- 
times believe their own falsehoods. To such pious 
frauds as this do men resort in order to aggrandize 
themselves and their order — men too, who are un- 
der a solemn vow to despise the world, and even its 
most harmless pleasures, and to give themselves up 
entirely to the salvation of the souls of others and 
of their own. 

The rule of \vhich we are speaking, was origin- 
ally written in Italian, and then, after some years, 
turned into monkish Latin, so barbarous, that it evi- 
dently shows, whatever be Francis' claims for the 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 25 

title of a saint, he had very little — indeed none at all, 
for that of a scholar. It is indeed a curious speci- 
men of composition, whether regarded in a literary 
or in a moral light. I am sorry, that I have not a 
copy of it by me to make some extracts fj'om, ha- 
ving unfortunately lost the one I had. The extracts, 
which 1 am about to give, will be understood there- 
fore, as drawn entirely from memory. It begins 
with the bull of Honorius III, the then reigning 
pope, confirming the order of the Friars Minor, the 
name, which through humility the Franciscans first 
assumed. Nor did this show of humility want its 
due portion of policy. Francis and his companions 
were well aware, that the success of the order would 
be much injured, if they excited in the beginning 
the jealousy of the Benedictines, Augustinians, Car- 
melites, &c., all long established and powerful or- 
ders. To give no open cause then for their jealou- 
s}^, they very prudently accomplished by a show of 
humility, what they were well aware never could 
be brought about by open defiance. They therefore 
called themselves Minor-friars, or Friar-minors. Lit- 
tle did the other orders then imagine, that the poor, 
sheepish-looking Francis had more real cunning than 
his outward deportment would warrant, and that he 
was about to institute an order, which like bad weeds 
in a garden, would soon spread itself through all 
Europe. Little did they imagine, that his follow- 
ers w^ould soon dispossess them of their pulpits, and 
of their chairs of theology and transfer in the end 
to themselves that veneration, in which they w^ere 
held by the people. But who can dive into futuri- 
ty.'^ Not even monks, however thaumaturgi^ or 
miracle-workers they may be! 

We have seen, that the rule begins with the con- 
firmaiion of the order by the then reigning pope, 
Honorius III. How that pope was brought to sanc- 

3 



26 SIX YEARS IN THE 

tion the ravings of a man, who, by any person of 
sense, would be thought a madman, has connected 
with it another ridiculous story, which I shall take 
the liberty to mention here. It shows the pitiable 
stratagems, to which Francis and the pope too, as if 
an abettor, had recourse; each, to consolidate his 
own authority — the one, the authority over his par- 
ticular followers, as their founder — the otiier, the au- 
thority, or at least, an argument in favor of that au- 
thority over the whole Christian world, as vicar of 
Christ. It seems, that in a second interview, which 
Francis had with the animated crucifix, he was or- 
dered to set out immediately for Rome, "and'^ — 
(Christ is blasphemously made the speaker,) "throw- 
ing thyself at the feet of my vicar, whom I have 
already prepared for thy coming, demand a confir- 
mation of the rule, which I have given thee." So 
saying, the crucifix remained silent. Francis, with- 
out the least hesitation, immediately set out for Rome, 
where arrived, he presented himself before the pon- 
tiS', who instantly embraced him to the great sur- 
prise of the Cardinals and his other attendants. The 
pope then related the vision which he had seen the 
preceding night. "As I lay on my knees,'' said he, 
"after midnight, deeply engaged in prayer before the 
image of my Saviour, and supplicating him to in- 
spire me with sufficient strength and prudence for 
the government of His holy church ; behold, I saw 
in a vision, though broad awake, the church of St. 
John Lateran tottering, and this man — (pointing to- 
wards Francis on his knees) dressed in the same 
habit, in which he appears before us now, support- 
ing it with all his might, whilst in characters of fire 
were written over his head the words ' Vade, repa- 
ra domum Tneam^ — ^Go, and repair my house." 
Francis then related his conversation with the cru- 
cifix, and the command which he had received to 



I 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 27 

proceed to Rome, and get his rule which was writ- 
ten in Heaven, confirmed on earth by the vicar of 
Jesus Christ. The confirmation, as may well be 
supposed, met with no obstacle, and thus was a be- 
ginning given to the Franciscan order. The fore- 
going stories, ridiculous as they certainly are, and 
many others still more ridiculous and equally mar- 
vellous, are to be found in the life of St. Francis, 
written by one of his followers. Let the reader 
then give them that degree of credence, which he 
may deem them worthy of. The subject of the lat- 
ter one is made the escutcheon engraved on the vi- 
car-generaPs seal, of which I have an impression 
in my possession — St. Francis, holding his shoulder 
against the falling church of St. John Lateran, and 
the words ^^vade, repara domum meam^' written 
over his head. 

The rule then continues to lay down certain re- 
gulations to be observed under pain of mortal sin 
by all those professed in the order. The principal 
one, and that upon which all the rest are based, is a 
blind, servile obedience to the reigning pope and his 
successors canonicaUy elected. Now, the clause "ca- 
nonically elected'^ is rather vague in its signification, 
and probably Francis, simple as he may appear to his 
co-visionary, pope Honorius, suspected that popes 
were not always elected according to the canons. 
He therefore very honestly gives his followers the 
liberty of choosing between contending popes, or 
of remaining neutral, not acknowledging any pope 
at all, till they see to whom fortune or superior in- 
terest, disguised under the name of the "Holy Ghosf^ 
would finally give the popedom. The scandalous 
contentions for the popedom — a manifest sign, that 
the Holy Spirit, though formally invoked, has very 
little influence in the election — are so well known 
to every reader, that it is needless to make particu- 



28 SIX YEARS IN THE 

lar mention of them here. The contentions for that 
dignity, when the holy see was transferred to Avig- 
non, and w^hen there existed at one and tlie same 
time three popes, excommunicating and damning 
one another, may serve as an example of the infal- 
libility of the infallible men, who are elected to it. 
Three infallibles at one and the same time, and 
each condemning the infallible bulls and edicts, pro- 
mulgated by his infallible opponents! Strange in- 
deed, but such is popery. 

In another chapter, it lays down the number of 
lents to be observed in the year, and the manner, in 
vv^hich these lents are to be observed. The lents are 
three : one of seven weeks, observed, or at least com- 
manded to be observed by the whole Romish church ; 
though such a command, I am glad to see, is meet- 
ing with deserved neglect in most parts of Europe, 
except Ireland, and there also, among the educated 
classes of Roman Catholics — so true it is, that edu- 
cation is the bane of popery, and where the former 
prevails, the latter is put to flight, for it is as easy to 
unite fire and water as information and popery. 

The second of two months from All Saint^s day, 
1st of November, to Christmas, called by the monks, 
^Ma quaresima di merilo,'^ or the meritorious lent. 
The third of 40 days, which begins some days after 
the Epiphany. This last is called '' la quaresima 
benedetta^^ or the blessed lent, because Francis did 
not command it to be observed under pain of mor- 
tal sin, but yet left his blessing to those who ob- 
serve it. Thus is fasting, though neither good nor 
bad in itself, rendered by this madman execrable, as 
being made the means of acquiring merit, and there- 
by salvation, whilst the blessed doctrine of obtaining 
it through the vicarious atonement, and merits of 
Christ, is not once thought upon. The rigour with 
which lent should be observed, is perhaps intended 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 29 

to be pointed out by the following story, related in 
the life of St. Francis: 

One day in lent, Francis and his companion were 
travelling — on foot to be sure — in the province of 
Umbria, for the purpose of founding convents. 
They were fasting all that day, nor would they par- 
take of any food, lest they should break through the 
holy fast, though frequently invited to do so by those 
upon whom they called in the way of business. 
Evening drawing nigh, they were obliged to take 
up their lodgings at the house of a vicious nobleman, 
who, however, he may conceal it, was a secret ene- 
my of Francis and his institute. At supper, there 
was nothing placed upon the table before the holy 
man and his companion but flesh-meat. The com- 
panion looked towards his master to see how he 
should act, and his hair stood on end with aston- 
ishment, when he positively saw him eating, what 
was set before him. Knowing, however, that the 
saint never acted without good reasons, he said 
nothing, but silently im^itated the example given 
him. His host, who stood on the watch with some 
of his vicious companions, immediately burst out 
into laughter, and called in his neighbors to expose 
the hypocrite; as he called the holy man. Francis, 
not in the least disturbed, made the sign of the cross 
on the table, and in the twinkling of an eye, the 
meat — capons, turkeys and all — was turned into 
herrings; and even the bones of what he had already 
eaten, became bones of fish! This was a miracle 
indeed! But some monks have nothing else to do 
than inventing such trash. The story is made, 
however, to serve its own purposes. It impres 
ses the necessity of abstaining from certain meats 
during a certain time, in order to obtain favour with 
God, and strengthens that necessity by bringing 
Francis, whom all acknowledge a saint, forward as 

3* 



30 SIX YEARS IN THE 

an example. This is nothing else but preaching the 
antiscriptural doctrine of the distinction of meats, 
so fondly adliered to by the church of Rome, and 
the bringing of Francis on the stage, is but showing 
an example of obedience to that doctrine. Again, 
the miracle of changing flesh meat into herrings, 
is but proving by a miracle, how acceptable such a 
doctrine is to God. 



CHAPTER V. 

Continuation of the Rule — Monkish Vow of Poverty — How obser- 
ved — Anecdote of a Carmelite — Masses — Obedience — Educa- 
tion of Novices — An Ass turned into an Ox — The Tree of Obedi- 



In another chapter of the book of rules, the friars 
are not only exhorted, but positively commanded 
" to have neither lands nor houses, nor money , 
either in common or for individual use — but to 
depend entirely on the charity of the faithful for 
subsistence.^^ They are commanded to go "from 
door to door^^ [da uscio in uscio, are the express 
words of Francis,) " begging — not money, which 
they are prohibited from touching, but — provis- 
ions,^^ This part of the rule is now entirely disre- 
garded, and was, from the very beginning of the 
Franciscan institute, and in the days of Francis him- 
self — a pretty sample of obedience to the precepts 
of a rule, which he impiously gave out to be written 
by God himself. It is well known, that no people 
are so fond of money as monks, and none make so 
little use of it for the good of society in general. 
Absolute poverty, which they swear, yes, solemnly 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY^ &C. 31 

swear to observe, and live in, is openly and in the face 
of the public set at naught; most convents having 
lands and rents attached to them for their support. 
Thus is the command at once broken through by 
them, considered as a community or body. The latter 
part — that of " begging from door to door — for pro- 
visions" — is indeed observed in part, and only in 
part, for they take money, if offered. It is continued 
chiefly more for the purpose of giving the world an 
idea of their poverty and humility, than through 
any absolute want they feel of such assistance. They 
have also a good income — paid always in money, 
mind — from the many masses daily celebrated in 
their churches according to the intention of the high- 
est bidder. The atoneipent of Christ set up for auc- 
tion! mark that, reader. These masses are mostly 
said in aid of the souls in purgatory, which, what- 
ever it be as a place of punishment to its inmates, is 
certainly the source of many enjo^^ments to its turn- 
keys, and has been justly called the pope's bank — a 
bank indeed, which will never stop payment as long 
as the reign of superstition lasts. Masses are often 
said likewise according to the intention of some 
swindler and assassin, who wishes to implore God's 
blessing onJiis nefarious undertakings. Some sin- 
cere, though mistaken believers in their eiRcacy, 
also pay for masses to be said for some virtuous in- 
tention; but these are rare cases, and if monks de- 
pended upon their frequent occurrence for support, 
they would soon be obliged to shut up shop. 

Much as monks, considered as a community, 
transgress the vow of poverty, they transgress it still 
more, individually. There are few, very few in- 
deed, among them, who have not each his own pri- 
vate purse, which is often applied to uses that would 
not bear examination. Some over-scrupulous, andyet 
unwilling to forfeit the gratifications, which money 



32 SIX YEARS IN THE 

can procure, cover their hands with two or three 
pairs of gloves, whilst using it, in order to evade the 
law, which simply sa3'S, " fratres pecuninrn noii at- 
tinganf^ — let friars not touch money. Thus they 
endeavour to stifle the voice of conscience by never 
touching it with their naked fingers, and think, that 
they have satisfied the law, if they blindfold the d — 1 
in the dark — This way of getting over a difficulty 
or of interpreting a command in one's own favour, is 
similar to that of the Carmelite's, who not being al- 
lowed by the rules of his order to eat meat within 
the convent, though he may without, thrust his head 
and part of his body out of the vi^indow, and in that 
position devoured a whole fowl. There are others, 
who go in a more open wa}^ to work; those who ap- 
ply to the pope for a brief by which they may be 
empowered to keep money, on payment of a certain 
sum to his Holiness; but the greater part never trou- 
ble their heads about either pope or bishop's leave, 
and keep as much money as they can come at. In- 
deed, a monk's conscience becomes larger and larger 
every day, till at last, being entirely worn out, it 
bursts and stops at nothing. 

1 shall mention the contents of one more chapter 
of this rule, and make a few remarks thereon, and 
then be done with it. Blinds servile obedience to 
the local and general superiors of the order ^ is in- 
sisted upon and commanded to be strictly observed 
by the rule of St. Francis. This is made an essen- 
tial point in the character of a good monk, and on 
this, according to monkish moralists, all other vir- 
tues depend. Obedience, indeed, considered in re- 
lation to God, or to parents, or to those who have 
any lawful power to command it from us, is certain- 
ly a virtue; but when it extends itself to the perfor- 
mance of things, which are little in unison with Gos- 
pel morality, it must certainly, whatever monkish 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 33 

moralists say to the contrary, lose in a great mea- 
sure its good effects. Thus the sujDerior of a monas- 
tery will command one of his subjects to preach a 
funeral sermon over the corpse of one, whose whoie 
life was one continued round of vice and immorali- 
ty. The convent will gain something by it, and the 
subject of course must obey his superior. He then in 
that very pulpit designed for spreading the truths of 
the Gospel — though a monastic pulpit is seldom used 
for that purpose — must praise the virtues and piety 
of the deceased, and with an unbkishing disregard 
for truth, must attribute to him some noble actions, 
of which he was never guilty; having been on the 
contrary, the scandal and rock of offence to the whole 
neighbourhood. How then will the preacher ex- 
cuse himself to his own conscience for this unwor- 
thy prostitution of his oratory.^^ Why, by simply 
thinking that his vow of obedience compelled him 
to it, and instead of fearing God's indignation, he 
places it among the bundle of his merits, to be pre- 
sented at his death as a passport to heaven; for it is 
an axiom with them, that the more difficult the com- 
mand, the greater is the merit of obeying it. Again, 
if a subject be commanded by his superior to attend 
at the last moments of a dying rich man- — and this 
is an every day occurrence — and to endeavour to 
prevail upon him, whilst in that feeble state of mind 
and body, to bequeath his wealth, or the greater 
portion of it to the m.onastery for the good of his 
soul; the subject dare noi. disobey, though he is 
well aware, that the favourable issue of his commis- 
sion w^ill tend to the injury of the children and 
other near relatives of the dying man. He only 
works in his vocation, leaving to those whom he 
obeys, to reconcile the act to the strict rules of equi- 
ty and justice; and perhaps, he excuses himself in 



34 SIX YEARS IN THE 

the words of Falstaff — "it is my vocation^ it is no 
sin for a man to work at his vocation.'^ 

This blind obedience to the will of the superiors 
is more than any thing else dwelt upon in the educa- 
tion of novices. Fromthemoment they take the habit, 
they are led by degrees to lose the exercise of their 
free vvill^ and of the innate power of judging between 
fas and nefas — ri<iht and wrong. They are taught to 
consider an action essentially bad in itself as meritori- 
ous, when sanctioned by the command of the supe- 
rior. Their instructors, however, take good care 
not to wound all at once their natural sense of pro- 
priety, but conduct them insensibly, and without 
their perceiving it, to make a sacrifice of their judg- 
ment. They at first command only trifling things, 
and such as are of no moment; things indifferent in 
themselves, and neither bad nor good. Thus, one 
is commanded to plant some cabbages in the garden 
with the roots upwards; another, to stick in the 
ground a piece of dry, rotten wood, and water it so 
many times a day, as if it were a living- plant — a 
duty I performed myself for nearly one fortnight; 
another is ordered to pronounce so many Latin 
words contrary to the received and established rules 
of prosody, as legere for legerej donilnus for dorm- 
nuSy episiola for epistbla^ and so on. The novices 
are in this way brought by degrees to accustom 
themselves to be guided by others, and to perform 
the will of their superior in every thing, till at last 
they become as pieces of wax in the hands of a saint- 
maker, who is at liberty to make of it a Gesu Bam- 
bino, a Madonna, or a de — il, as it may best answer 
his purpose. Nor are there wanting legends and 
tales, to more forcibly impress on the mind the 
merit of obedience. Out of thousands 1 will select 
one or two. St. Francis, walking one day in company 
with one of his novices, saw, on the side of the road. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 35 

an ass feeding. " Is not that a fine ox/^ said he to his 
companion; "and how ought we to be thankful to God 
for his goodness in bestowing on us such auxiliaries to 
help us on in our labours/^ The novice looked to- 
wards the hedge, and saw — not an ox, but — an ass, 
endeavouring to satisfy his appetite on a meal of 
thistles. Thiniiing that the saint, in his simplicity, 
really mistook an ass for an ox, whilst the holy pa- 
triarch was only trying his obedience, he took the 
liberty to inform him of his mistake. The saint, 
however, chided him for his pains, and telling him 
to look again, lo! the ass was in an instant trans- 
formed into a beautiful and strong ox. The novice 
now threw himself at the saint's feet, humbly im- 
ploring his forgiveness, for having dared to think or 
see any thing, but in the way that he, his superior, 
thought, or saw it: the man of God, after reading 
him a lecture on submitting even his senses to the 
authority of his superiors, raised him up, and took 
him again into favour, on his promising never to be- 
lieve his own eyes again. 

There is another legend, by which the merit of 
blind obedience is impressed upon the minds of no- 
vices, and which, having some likeness to the task 
I myself had to perform — that of watering a dry 
stick thrust into the ground — may not be found un- 
interesting. It is the following: 

In the garden of the convent of Capuchins at Al- 
latri — a town of the papal states situated in the Cam- 
pagna di Roma — there is a fine fig-tree, which every 
year produces abundance of delicious fruit. The 
tradition attached to this tree forms the subject of 
the legend. A young man, of most libertine prin- 
ciples, who had passed through every stage of vice 
which is practised in a sinful world, being obliged 
to flee from Rome, on account of having wounded 



36 SIX YEARS IN THE 

in a duel one of the companions of his debauchery, 
took refuge in the convent, till the powerful interest 
of his relations — he being of a noble family — could 
procure his pardon. In the mean time he was a 
diligent observer of the piety and sanctity of the 
monks, (so says the annalist — a monk, to be sure,) 
and at last came to the resolution of renouncing the 
world altogether, and of serving God under the rule 
of St. Francis. With this intention, he sought the 
superior, and, with tears in his eyes, begged to be 
received as a novice. The superior, in order to try 
his vocation, angrily repulsed him, and said, that 
such an infamous wretch as he was not worthy to be 
classed among the followers of the hol}^ patriarch. 
But this refusal served only to excite his desire the 
more — and he again and again renewed his petition. 
The superior, seeing his constancy, at length con- 
sented; fearing, that if he resisted any longer, he 
would be acting against the divine impulse that so 
strongly excited the young man to forsake the world 
and its vanities. He was received as a novice. His 
master-novice, in order to exercise him in obedience, 
commanded him to take from the fire a half-burnt 
piece of wood, and plant it in the garden, at a 
quarter of a mile^s distance from the well, whence 
he was to draw water to water it three times every 
day. It happened, that the piece of wood was a 
part of a fig-tree, and — remark the fruits of obe- 
dience — the haif-burnt stick took root, and grew 
into the beautiful tree w^hich is to be seen to this 
day in the garden of the Allatri convent. It is now 
called by the monks, and other inhabitants of the 
town, " Palbore della ubbedenza,^^ or the tree of 
obedience. Such ridiculous stories as these are 
made the means of rendering the unfortunate vic- 
tims of monkery, the willing agents for upholding 
the doctrines of the Romish church, and of placing 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 37 

them as tools in the hands of the more cunning, for 
executing their own private views, and for leading 
astray, from the road to salvation, the minds of a su- 
perstitious peasantry. 



CHAPTER VI. 

What excited Francis to found his order — Benedictines — Santoni 
— State of the religious orders in the thirteenth century — State 
of the people — Francis' ambition. 

It v^dll not be thought foreign to the present sub- 
ject to make a few remarks on the reasons which first 
excited Francis to institute his order. They were 
chiefly these: the indolent, lazy, inactive life of the 
other monkish orders — the superstition of the age in 
which he lived (the beginning of the thirteenth cen- 
tury) and which he well knew, would receive with 
applause any appeal to its notions of religion — and 
the fire of ambition burning in his bosom, and 
strongly driving him on to distinguish himself by 
becoming founder of a mionastic order. On looking 
into the state of the monastic orders of Francis' days, 
we cannot help observing, that the greater part of 
them fell away from their primitive institute. The 
Benedictines, founded many centuries before by 
Benedict — another fanatic — were fast falling into 
the disrepute they so justly merited, for their sloth- 
ful, indolent, and vicious lives. Benedict's inten- 
tion was, that his followers should lead an ascetic 
life, wholly secluded from the world, and that their 
monasteries should be built far from any populous 
city. This regulation, which was doubtless intend- 
ed by their founder as a preventive against secular 
4 



38 SIX YEARS IN THE 

ambition, very soon became inadequate to the accom- 
plishment of that purpose. B}^ degrees, riches flowed 
into them, and their primitive frugality was theo 
soon at an end. They became masters of the land 
for miles in the neighbourhood of their monasteries, 
and all the peasantry thereon became slaves to their 
clerical masters, who exercised the powder of life and 
death over them. The monasteries soon became 
fortified castles; it being no unusual sight to see 
mitred abbots, with the crozier in one hand, and the 
sword in the other, leading on their vassals against 
some secular lord, from whom they had received, or 
imagined to have received, some insult. These 
petty brawls were the only disturbances w^hich 
aroused them from their beloved indolence; for, at 
other times, their lives were chiefly spent in feast- 
ing — not fasting ; and in mumbling over some 
Latin prayers, whicii the greater part of them did 
not understand. Many people are under the im- 
pression, that the world is much indebted to the 
Benedictines for the care they took in preserving 
and transcribing many valuable books, which, were 
it not for them, would scarcely have come down to 
us. That some books were preserved in their mo- 
nasteries, especially in those belonging to the con- 
gregation of St. Maure, cannot be denied; but did 
the}^ endeavour to instruct the people in general to 
use such books? Quite the contrary has been the 
case. It was their interest to keep the people in 
ignorance, in order to maintain their own influence 
over them; and as he was thought a learned man in 
those days who could read and write, so the monks 
were looked upon as superior beings, who w^ere 
masters of these extraordinary qualifications. The 
bulls issued by the reigning popes of that period 
speak volumes as to the ignorant state of the people 
in general, and more particularly, of the ignorant 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 39 

stale of the vassals of the church. These bulls 
loudly complain, thai the peasantry living on the 
estates of most abbeys, were ignorant of the first ru- 
diments of Christianity. The monks, indeed, took 
very little trouble to teach them any thing at all, but 
when they did, it consisted in repeating pater nos- 
ters and ave Marias, and some other Latin prayers 
to the Virgin and saints. When they preached, the 
subject was not the way of salvation, as pointed out 
in the revealed Word, but some miracle or life of a 
i^aint chosen from their order. Thus, the world, all 
things considered, does not lie under such obliga- 
tions to the Benedictines as their advocates would 
lead us to believe; for truly, had they never existed, 
or had they taken more pains to instruct the people, 
the reign of barbarism and Vandalic ignorance w^ould 
not so long have afflicted the human race. 

The other orders, including the Augustinians, 
Carmelites, and their different ramifications, were 
on a par, both in utility and morality, with the Be- 
nedictines. The people, though uneducated, could, 
however, judge of the evil effects naturally flowing 
from the monkish system, and were ripe for shaking 
off* the galling yoke of their clerical rulers, as soon 
as they could find a favourable opportunity. The 
veneration in which monks were held began to sen- 
sibly decrease, and the people by degrees gave less 
credence to their stories of prodigies and holiness, 
which were so contradictory to the known tenor of 
their lives. They began to look around for some 
one, that, making himself one of themselves, w^ould 
both flatter their passion for the marvellous, and free 
them from the proud domination of mitred abbots. 
Every fool, who had not the wit or the means of 
living in the society of his neighbours, found imme- 
diate support by wandering about the country in the 
assumed character of a santone^ or huge saint. 



40 SIX YEARS IN THE 

His povertyj and the filthiness of his rags, were con- 
sidered, by a superstitious peasantry, as evident 
signs of superior holiness, and the miracles and 
visions which he pretended to have seen, were lis- 
tened to with open mouths. The idea, that their 
lordly masters, the Benedictines and others, could 
alone be acceptable to God, or could alone perform 
miracles, began to wear away fast, and there was 
wanting only a santone m.ore cunning than the rest 
to fix their veneration on himself alone, and on his 
followers, and to withdraw it altogether from their 
sanctified tyrants. Such a one was presented to 
them in the person of Francis. 

Francis long since was aware of the decline of 
Benedictine influence, and not having the talents to 
distinguish himself in any secular profession, and, 
like the man that burned the temple of Diana at 
Ephesus, being ambitious to immortalise his name — 
no matter how — thought that a favourable opportu- 
nity now presented itself of arriving at that object. 
He therefore dressed himself in tattered rags, and, 
barefooted, wandered about the country, feigning a 
most sanctified deportment, and relating the wonders 
and visions with which he was favoured. He silent- 
ly and patiently suffered the insults, and even the 
blows of those who were sent by the lordly Bene- 
dictines to drive him from the neighbourhood of 
their monasteries; for, conscious of their declining 
influence over the minds of the people, they rightly 
judged that he, and other vagabond saints of his 
stamp, were the cause of it, by placing their meek- 
ness, poverty, and show of sanctity, in the face of 
their own pride, riches, and want of common de- 
cency. His patience and assumed meekness under 
insults, served to increase his popularity, and to at- 
tract the more general notice of the people. He 
found himself surrounded in a short time by many 



. MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &n. 41 

followers; some of his own class being excited to 
unite themselves to him, as the means of more easily 
acquiring the public esteem, and to satisfy their 
dnrling passion of being thought saints; whilst 
others, with more pure and disinterested motives, 
and firmly believing in the reality of his affected 
sanctity, took him as their guide, and hoped, through 
his intercession and prayers, to obtain favour with 
God. 0, human blindness! And was there no one 
to preach the blessed and life-giving doctrine of jus- 
tification, through the vicarious atonement of a Sa- 
viour, to these souls panting after immortality? Was 
there no one to point out to them the Lamb of God, 
which taketh away the sin of the world? Their 
error was more of the judgment than of the heart, 
and had Francis and his co-impostors been as de- 
sirous of exalting the kingdom of Christ, as they 
were of exalting themselves, to these souls asking 
the " way to be saved,'' his answer would not be — 
" believe in me, unite yourselves to me, and under 
my protecting vvings, ye may be sure of salvation:^' 
but it would be — " believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, 
and ye shall be saved/' But this answer would de- 
base himself, and make him lose the fruits of his 
imposture — the acquiring a name for himself, and 
the honour of being founder of a monastic order. 

Francis, soon after he had acquired a sufficient 
number of followers, and had excited in the minds 
of the people an extravagant notion of his superior 
holiness, retired into the mountains of his native 
town, Assisi, perhaps really fleeing from his father, 
who had sense enou«;h to wish that his son misiht 
distinguish himself in some other vvay; or perhaps, 
to give the appearance of realit}^ to the story he had 
already fabricated about his rule; which has been 
already related. It is said by his monkish biogra- 
phers, that his father had him forcibly brought back 

4^ 



42 SIX YEARS IN THE 

to his house at Assisi, and confined him for a consi- 
derable tinie to one of the rooms, secured with a 
lock and key, in order to turn him away from his 
intention of becoming a saint; but finding this and 
many other like attempts on his virtue (as they call 
his obstinacy,) of no avail, he, at last, stripped him 
naked and turned him into the streets. Be that as 
it may, it is certain that he obtained the confirma- 
tion of his rule from Pope Honorius soon after the 
invention of the story about the crucifix, and in less 
than two years after its confirmation, he saw him- 
self arrived at the goal of his wishes, in being the 
founder and head of a flourishing order. In some of 
his pictures, which may be frequently seen in the 
Franciscan churches, he is represented in a state of 
nudity, running away from his father, and fleeing 
for protection under the folds of the pope's garments, 
with the inscription, " Pater me abjecit, Deus au- 
tem meaccepit.^^ (My father has cast me off', but 
God has taken me in.) This probably alludes to 
the circumstance related by his biographers, of his 
father's having turned him away as incorrigible, and 
disobedient. A breach of the third commandment 
is thus held up as worthy of imitation, and made 
one of the virtues of a canonized saint! Popery, po- 
pery, when wilt thou learn to blush? 



MONASTERIES OP ITALT, &C. 43 



CHAPTER VII. 

Novitiate — Education of Novices — Master-novice — His Qualifica- 
tions — Popish prayers — Canonization and Beatification — Cano- 
nical hours. 

The first year of a monkish life is called the year 
of novitiate. During this year, the novices, or em- 
bryo-monks, live apart from those, who are^already 
professed. Their rooms are situated in the most re- 
tired part of the convent, nor are they allowed to 
have intercourse with any one, or even to speak to 
each other without leave from the master-novice. 
He is always at their side, and they must be gov- 
erned entirely by his directions, which are always 
given in a tone of command. He is for the most 
part a learned man, though it not unfrequently hap- 
pens, that he is chosen to that office more on account 
of his cunning than his learning: indeed, the chief 
qualifications looked for in a master novice are, a 
calniy even temper; a knowledge of the human 
heart; an utter devotion to the good and aggran- 
dizement of the order; and a power of deep dis- 
simulation. The two latter qualifications are con- 
sidered as most essential; the first, in order to be 
able to impress on the minds of the novices the same 
love and devotion for the good of the order, which 
stimulate himself: the last, in order to closely ob- 
serve, and at the same time, appear as if not obser- 
ing, the actions and even the thoughts of those com- 
mitted to his guidance. His first care is to dive into 
the novice's natural disposition, by leaving him to 
himself, and almost master of his own actions for 
the first two or three months. Having found out 



44 SIX YEARS IN THE 

his failings, which perhaps, in the opinion of a more 
upright judge, would be considered as leaning to vir- 
tue's side, he then prepares for the remed>'. 

Nothing is so much dwelt upon in the education 
of novices, as the article of prompt and passive obe- 
dience. This is held up to their view as the great- 
est of all possible virtues, and the one, upon which 
all otiier virtues are founded. To accustom the 
mind to be guided in every thing by ihe command 
of the superior, the master-novice is sure to com- 
mand things, which, from his own observation, he 
thinks might be in direct variance with the natural 
or acquired disposition of the novice. If he observe 
one of his pupils passionately i'ond of reading, and 
study, he will command him to abstain from such 
indulgence for a certain time, and then reads him a 
lecture on the vanity of all human acquii'ements. 
Should he observe another rather tired of the stories 
contained in the " annals of tlie order,''^ it is his 
duty to command him to read so many paries of 
these annals every day, and render an account of 
what he had read, with his reflections thereon, at 
some stated time, to himself. By degrees, the mind 
of the novice, trained up in this vvay, accustoms it- 
self to depend entirely upon the will of others, and 
almost forgets, that it has in itself an innate power 
of volition. When arrived at this point, the master's 
work is more than half done. He then, by slight 
insinuations at first, and afterwards more openly, es- 
tablishes the monstrous doctrine '^ that the good of 
the order ought to be consulted in every thing." 

* The book, or rather books, for there are 7 huge folio volumes 
of it, used for instructing the novices in monkery, called " gli an- 
nali del serafico ordine" — the annals of the seraphic order. — These 
annals rival the breviary itself in lying, and seem to have been 
written by the inspiration of the father of lies himself. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 45 

He proves by arguments the most convincing to 
those minds already prepared for them, that a " thing 
essentially bad in itself becomes good, when it is 
performed for the advancement of the order, or by 
the command, of the superior, who ought to be the 
best judge of what is lawful, and what unlawful to 
be done by the subject." He then sums up, and 
concludes his anti-Christian theories with one short 
rule, " that by obeying his superior in every thing, 
a monk may be sure of everlasting life, and can 
never commit a sin, even whilst in the performance 
of the basest action, if he performs it by command 
of his superior.'^ 

It is also the duty of the master-novice to teach 
the novices the ceremonies and prayers of the 
church, and the manner of reciting the divine office 
in choir. The ceremonies consist in the different 
genuflections to be made at the time of mass; the 
number of times the ground ought to be kissed; and 
the posture of body to be observed on different oc- 
casions. In the presence of strangers, they are 
taught to put on a holy mortified countenance, to 
keep their eyes fixed on the ground, and their arms 
crossed on their breast. They are taught to answer 
modestly and in a few words to any question that 
might be put to them, and to evade all questions re- 
lative to the internal policy of -the order. Thus 
should an acquaintance ask a monk, " whether it be 
likely that Padre N — will be made provincial at 
the ensuing chapter," the monk is sure not to under- 
stand the question at first, and to endeavour to evade 
it. When pressed, however for a direct answer, 
he either pleads ignorance on the subject, or simply 
says " that the election of superiors restsin the hands 
of God, and that for his part, he is willing to obey 
whomsoever it may please the Divine Will to place 



46 SIX YEARS IN THE 

over him." By this sliow of humility, he leaves the 
inquirer as wise as before, and in admiration of his 
deep resignation to the v/\\\ of God. The novices 
are early exercised in this manner of answering;. 
Their master will, for instance, ask one of them, 
^'If it be raining, or fine weather.'^ The simple, di- 
rect answer would be '' Yes; or no;'^ but the novice 
is taught to answer ''It seems to me," or "If I be 
not mistaken; it is fine weather, or it is raining." 

The prayers, which they are taught, chiefiy con- 
sist in repeating the rosary of the Virgin Mary; or 
in getting by heart some hymn, composed in honour 
of some other Saint or Saintess, and accustomed to 
be sung before his or her image, in order to implore 
its intercession. The rosary is a species of super- 
stitious worship — for prayer it can scarcely be call- 
ed — in which one ''pater noster" is offered to God 
for every ten "Ave Marias" offered to the Virgin 
Mary. It is made up of ten parts, in each of which 
the LorcTs prayer is repeated once, and the Hail 
Mary ten times, so that one hundred prayers are 
repeated in honour of the Virgin, and teii only, in 
honour of God. It concludes with the following 
blasphemous address to the Virgin; which I here 
subjoin for the satisfaction of those, who are not ac- 
quainted with the extent of popish irreligion, and 
who perhaps w^ll think it impossible, that any church 
calling itself Christian, could sanction by its autho- 
rity so barefaced an insult to the great Mediator be- 
tween God and man. It may tend also to make those 
who are favoured with the blessings of Gospel liber- 
ty, to duly appreciate that inestimable treasure, and 
exert themselves in behalf of their less fortunate 
fellow-creatures, who live under the yoke of a wily 
priesthood, and who are kept from depending upon 
the all-sufficient atonement of Jesus by having their 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY^ &C. 47 

minds turned away from Him, the Lord, and Giver 
of life, to the worship, and adoration of his crea- 
tures. 

Salve, Regina, inater iiiisericordix^ vita, dulcedoj 
et spes nostra, Salve. Jid te clamamus, exules fi- 
lii Hevse, ad te suspiramus, gementes & flentes in 
hac lachrymarum valle, Eja, ergo, advocata nostra^ 
illos tuos misericordes oculos ad nos converte, et 
Jesum benedictum fructum ventris tui, nobis post 
hoc exilium ostende, clemens, O pia, dulcis 
virgo Maria.* (Hail holy Queen, mother of mer- 
cy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope: to thee 
do we cry, poor banished sons of Eve, to thee do we 
send up our sighs, whilst mourning and weeping 
in this valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious 
advocate, thy eyes of mercy towards us, and shovv 
us, after this our banishment, Jesus, the blessed 
fruit of thy womb, O clement, O pious, O sweet 
Virgin Mary.) 

There is also another Latin prayer in verse, and 
in the form of a hymn, which is frequently sung in 
honour of the popish Goddess, and which it may 
not be thought needless to mention here, as it forms 
one of the parrot-prayers, which the young monk is 
obliged to commit to memory. It begins with an 
invocation to the Virgin, which would be very ap- 
propriate, if addressed to Venus, whom the poets 
feign to have been born of the foam of the sea ; but 
when applied to the meek and chaste Mary, it is 

* The translation is added for the benefit of such as do not un- 
derstand Latin, and who are not, like the greater part of Roma- 
nists, loud in praising or condemning what they do not understand. 
Indeed, the above prayer is daily repeated by millions of devotees 
before the image of the Virgin, who do not understand a syllable 
of the meaning of it. If they could understand it, it may be cha- 
ritably hoped, that they would repeat it less frequently. 



48 SIX YEARS IN THE 

certainly very much out of place. The following is 
a part of it : 

Ave maris stella, 
Dei mater alma, 
Atque semper virgo, 
Felix coeli porta. 
Monstra te esse matrem 
Samens per te pieces. 
Qui pro nobis natus 
Tulit esse tuus. 
Virgo Singularis 
Inter omnes mitis ; 
Nos culpis solutos 
Mites fac, et castos. 

The Virgin Mary is here called the ''Star of the 
sea, and the mother of Godf^ and her intercession 
is humbly implored, that, making use of the autho- 
rity of a mother, she may compel her son to re- 
ceive the prayers of the petitioners. It seems strange, 
how they can call her the Star of the sea^who, as far 
as we know, at least, never went to sea in her life. 
This epithet was given to Venus by some of the an- 
cient Pagans; and who knows, that it was not in 
imitation of them, that the same is given by papists 
to the Virgin? As if mistress of every favor, she 
is also entreated to make them chaste and mild, 
like herself, after having first freed them from 
their sins. 

The prayers to the other Saints, in which the no- 
vices are instructed, are of the same stamp with the 
foregoing — all derogating from the honour due to 
God alone, and bestowing it upon his creatures; 
some of which, though honoured as saints in this 
world, are now perhaps howling in the regions of 
the damned. The novices are directed to have par- 
ticular devotion for the saints of their own order, 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY^ &C. 49 

especially for St. Francis, the founder of it; St. An- 
thony of Padua, St. Crispin of Viterbo, and others 
of this class, whose merits raised them to the ho- 
nour of beatification^ or canonization. * The pic- 
tures of them are hung up in the dormitories and 
corridors of the convent; and each monk, whether 
professed or not, is expected, whilst passing before 
them, to bow down and kiss their frames or can- 
vass. 

The novices are also taught by their master, the 
manner of reciting the divine office. Officium divi- 
nitm^ or the canonical hours, is a certain portion of 
the psalms of David ; some hymns in honor of the 
saints, the lives of the saints themselves, and some 
detached portions of the Old, and New Testaments, 
commanded to be recited, under pain of mortal sin, 
at certain staled hours of the day, by every Romish 
ecclesiastic, whether secular or regular, and by eve- 
ry professed monk. These hours are contained, ar- 
ranged according to the day of the month (a saint's 
name being affixed to every day) and fitted up for 
the use of the whole year, in the book called " Bre- 
variunij^ t or the hremary. They are seven in 

* There is a wide difference between the meaning of these words ; 
^^beatification and canonization:^^ the former simply means, that 
the deceased has been declared "happy," by the mouth of infalli- 
bility, the pope; the latter refers to the ceremony of his making 
his public entry into paradise. He is then able to assist, in an effi- 
cacious way, those, who implore his intercession and protection. 
Whilst simply beatified, his power was not so great. Canonization 
generally takes place fifty years after beatification; fifty years be- 
ing the time allowed the beatified man or woman to become ac- 
quainted with Heaven, and to make friends there, by whose faTour 
and interest he or she may be able to befriend their worshippers. It 
probably takes its rise from the apotheosis, or deification of the 
ancient Romans, and does not yield a whit to it in absurdity. 

t Brevarium is a Latin word, seldom used by classical writers. It 
5 



50 SIX YEARS IN THE 

number, having obtained that division on account 
of the ancient custom of reciting them at seven dis- 
tinct hours of the day; though now-a-days, they are 
generally got over at one sitting by secular priests, 
and at two or three at farthest by regulars, who re- 
cite them together in choir. If recited at once, and 
without interruption, they w*ould take up about one 
hour every day, though many mumble them over 
in less than that time, especially those who consider 
them a burdensome duty, the sooner got rid of, the 
better. Very many recite them through habit, with- 
out reflecting upon, or even understanding the mean- 
ing of the words; and not few priests may be found, 
who never go to the trouble of reciting them at all, 
although, according to moralists, they commit a mor- 
tal sin for every time they neglect them. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Breviary — Its unwilling- agency in leading many Priests to the 
Truth — Story of a Tyrolese monk — His Conversion — The cause 
of it — Remarks upon it by a Professor of Theology — How a Po- 
pish Priest may commit seven mortal sins per diem. 

The ridiculous stories to be found in the breviary 
are ev.-dent proofs of the falling off of that church, 
which ordains it to be used as a prayer-book by her 
clergy, from the purity and simplicity of primitive 

means a summary. The priests' prayer-book is called by this 
name, either because it is a summary of all Christian duties, God 
help us! or because it has been established by the decrees of popes; 
breve, meaning in monkish Latin, a decree in favor, or against a 
certain individual, or individuals, wherein it differs from " bulla,"*^ 
which is an edict directed to the whole Christian world. 



.MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 51 

Christianity. The metamorphoses of Ovid, or the 
tales of the fairies are not half so marvellous as some 
actions and miracles of saints related in it. My 
wonder is, that the church of Rome, so political and 
cunning in her general conduct, should shosv so great 
a want of common prudence, by commanding her 
ministers to give credence to the monstrous absurdi- 
ties which the breviary/ contains. Were it designed 
for the laity, there would be little cause forwonder^ 
as it w^ould be only in accordance with the other 
doctrines, fabricated at the expense of truth and ge- 
nuine Christianity, which are daily held up to their 
belief; but that the agents, makers themselves of a 
corrupt system, should be required to believe in what 
they know to be completely false, is pushing their 
obedience a little too far. The breviary, however^ 
strange as it may appear^ has been the unwilling 
meansof drawing many souls to the life-giving truth^ 
as it is in Jesus. Many priests who are ordained, 
firmly believing in the truth of the Romish church^, 
soon become disgusted with the fables contained in 
this, the priest's prayer-book; and having found 
comfort in the detached and mutilated scraps of 
Scripture, scattered here and there through it, they 
are excited to examine the whole Bible more dili- 
gently^ whence they are sure to derive a consolation 
which the breviary never can bestow. A striking 
instance of this fell under my own observation a few 
years before, through God's mercy, I shook off the 
yoke of popish bondage. As it seems connected 
WMth my present subject, it will not be amiss to re- 
late it. 

A young Tyrolese studied at the same convent 
with me at Rome. He was distinguished for talents 
superior to those of many of his fellow-students, and 
was very early marked out by the superiors of the 
order, as one likely to be of use in founding eon- 



52 SIX YEARS IN THE 

vents, and propagating the Romish tenets in his own 
country. A close friendship existed between him 
and me; and, having opportunities of observing him, 
which he was cautious in affording to any one else, 
on going into his room, I often found him compa- 
ring Deodati's Italian translation of the scriptures 
with the Latin vulgate. How he came by the for- 
mer, I do not now recollect, or perhaps he never told 
me. He knew very well, that Deodati^s bible was 
prohibited, and therefore he kept it under a tile, 
which he could raise up and lay down in the pavement 
of his room.^ He had no fear, that I would betray 
him, for he well knew, that I was at that time a 
Christian only in outward appearance, and a secret 
scoffer at Christianity in general, and at monkish 
Christianity in particular. I made no secret of my 
opinions to him, believing him to be of the same 
mind. I observed, however, that he was growing 
every day more serious, and less inclined to join me 
in my remarks on the Christian religion, though he 
had the same indifference as formerly for the rites 
and ceremonies, in which his station obliged him to 
join. The cause of this change, I could not then 
guess, but it afterwards became manifest, when, af- 
ter being ordained priest, he Vv'as sent by the Pro^ 
paganda Fidet a missionary to Rhezia. He had not 

* Those who have been in either France or Italy, can easily con- 
ceive how a tile could be raised up from the pavement of a room; 
but for the information of such as have not, it may be necessary 
to add, that rooms are very seldom boarded in these countries, 
bricks, and tiles being used for flooring instead, even in the high- 
est stories of houses. 

* A college at Rome, expressly designed for the education of mis- 
sionaries. There are in it students from almost every part of the 
known world, prepared, vi et armis, if preaching will not do, to disse- 
minate the soul-destroying doctrines of popery through whatever part 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 53 

been absent more than four months, when he wrote 
to the general of the Capuchins, requesting, that he 
should consider him no longer as one of his subjects, 
and acquainting him with his having embraced, 
through conviction the reformed religion in one of 
the Protestant cantons of Switzerland. He said, 
that the stories of the breviary first led him to doubt 
of the truth of popery, and by degrees precipitated 
him into infidelity ; that he found comfort in reading 
some portions of the Scriptures, scattered through 
it; and that from reading a part, he was induced to 
read the whole, which ended in his again embracing 
Christianity under a purer form than that of the 
church of Rome. His change and the reasons for 
it, I learned from the professor of theology, to whom 
it was communicated by the gene^ral, that he might 
warn his other students to beware of the fatal effects 
of doubting of the truth of the infallible church of 
Rome. The professor in endeavouring to show the 
futility of the reasons, which induced him to embrace 
the reformed church, was obliged to declare first, 
what these reasons were; and after a long comment 
upon them, he wound up his arguments by attribu- 
ting the change to the temptation of the d — 1, who 
will certainly possess him hereafter, added he chari- 
tably enough, if he continue a heretic. 

It is not to be supposed, that all priests, who are. 

of the world they may be sent to. So devoted are they to the pope, 
that they are called through contempt, by the other ecclesiastics 
** guastatori deiP armata del Papa" (the pioneers of the pope's army.) 
A high dignitary of the Romish church in this city (Philadel- 
phia) is a sapling reared in this fruitful hot bed of false religion. 
I wish Protestants would imitate Rome in establishing such another 
institution, to counteract the evil effects naturally to be expected 
from having popery instead of Christianity preached to souls pant- 
ing after the waters of life. 

5* 



54 ^IX YEARS IN THE 

led into infidelity b}^ the fables of the breviary, are 
so fortunate as to search the scriptures for light, like 
my Tyrolese friend. The greater part of them, af- 
ter having discovered the fallibility and monstrous 
absurdities of the church, which claims for herself 
alone the title of "infallihle^^ j^^g^ of all other 
churches by the same standard, and imagine, that all 
and every doctrine of Christianity are so many cun- 
ningly devised fables invented by a certain class of 
men to answer their own private ends. They do 
not, however, on this account, cease from teaching 
and preaching the popish doctrines to all those, over 
whom they have acquired influence; but on the con- 
trary they seem, judging from outward appearance, 
to be most firm believers in them, and become their 
most zealous det^enders accordingly. Having em- 
braced the priesthood as a profession, they are de- 
termined to get a subsistence by it, and being well 
aware, that the greater the darkness and ignorance 
of the people, the greater will be the respect at- 
tached to their own persons, and consequently the 
greater also their emoluments: they therefore zea- 
lously propagate the Romish tenets, and conform 
themselves outwardly to the practice of them. Their 
chief care is to increase the reign of ignorance and 
superstition by a few well-told tales taken from the 
breviary, or from some other Saint-book ; exciting 
thereby the devotion of the people and creating a 
most furious belief in the most absurd doctrines. 
By this manner of acting, they find themselves the 
gainers, and in process of time, the long habit of 
deceiving others, ends at last in deceiving them- 
selves, and though scarcely believing in the first 
principles of Christianity, they flatter themselves in- 
to a belief of being very good Christians. Such is 
human delusion, and such are the evil effects neces- 
sarily flowing from popish doctrines ! 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 55 

It may be thought by many, that I am inventing 
stories for the purpose of heaping odium on the 
church of Rome, whilst relating some of the ridi- 
culous tales extracted from the breviary ; but as the 
book is still extant, and to be found in the hands, or 
at least on the book-shelf* of every popish priest in 
this country; those who doubt the authenticity of 
my extracts, are invited to examine for themselves. 
Indeed the doubt of their authenticity is perfectly 
reasonable, for the judicious mind can hardly con- 
ceive it possible, that such a farrago of absurdities 
could be offered to the belief of any one possessed 
of the powers of reason. But as the actual exist- 
ence of those absurdities includes also their possibi- 
lity, I have nothing more to do than give them as 
they are. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Design of the Breviary — Pius Vs bull — Extract from it — Marcel- 
lus— Life of Gregory the Great — His works — Life of Leo. I. — 
His great exploits — Remarks thereon— Nunneries of Tuscany. 

The first and leading feature of the breviary is 
its tendency to extol and confirm the usurped au- 

* Very many priests keep it only to save appearances, as a book 
which they are supposed to be never without, though they never 
open it unless in the presence of others; thereby, according to 
some of their own moralists, committing one mortal sin for every 
day they neglect to recite the canonical hours from it, and accord- 
ing to others, committing a mortal sin for every one of the hours 
not recited, which, the canonical hours being seven, make seven 
mortal sins per diem — a good round number in a year! How ma- 
ny then in a long life ? 



56 SIX YEARS IN THE 

Ihority of the Bishop of Rome. It begins with the 
bull of a pope confirming its contents and anathe- 
matizing any one — (God help me and all protest- 
ants, if the pope's anathema be any injury !) who 
would have the boldness to call in question any 
thing contained in it, or who would dare substitute 
any other book in its place. Thus the breviary pub- 
lished immediately after the council of Trent by 
command of Pius V., is fortified with a bull from 
that pope, beginning with the words *^Quod a no- 
bis,"* in which complaint is made, that the former 
breviaries had been corrupted in several places, and 
that the clergy were accustomed to shorten, by their 
own authority, the offices of the saints, in order to 
spend less time in reciting them. It then goes on 
to command, that from and after the publication of 
this bull, the breviary, of which it is a confirmation, 
should be used throughout the whole Christian world, 
and that all other breviaries published anterior to it, 
should be considered as abolished and prohibited. 
It also ordains, that the breviary in question should 
not be printed in any otb.er part of the world than 
Rome,t without express leave from the pope him- 
self. All the foregoing articles are ordered to be 
observed strict! 3", under pain of excommunication — 
the usual threat for enforcing the Pope's commands. 
The original words are: "Sed ut breviarium ipsum 

* The bulls of popes are generally called from the words they 
begin with: thus the bull by which Clement XI. condemned the 
Jansenists, is called the bull "Unigenitus" from its beginning with 
the words *' Unigenitus Dei filius." 

t This clause is manifestly intended for the purpose of drawing 
money into the Pope's treasury; as it may be supposed, that leave 
to print the breviary in Paris, and in other Roman Catholic coun- 
tries, would not be granted unless well paid for. There is in the 
Philadelphia library an edition of Pius Vs. breviary printed at 
Paris. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 57 

ubique Inviolatum et incorruptum habeatur, prohibe- 
mus, ne alibi usquani (praster Romae, scil.) in loto 
orbe sine nostra expressa licentia impri- 
matur vel recipiatur. Quoscunque, qui iliud secus 
impresserint, vel receperint, excommunicationis sen- 
tentia eo ipso innodamus.'^ The concluding words 
of this bull are so remarkable, that, although they 
do not strictly belong to the present subject, I can- 
not refrain from copying them, especially as the 
same, with very little alteration, are the concluding 
words of all bulls promulgated by the authority of 
the purple tyrant. They fully show forth the arrogant 
pretensions and overbearing policy of that church, 
which claims for itself alone an unlimited power over 
the souls and bodies of God's people, and which 
power it does not actually exercise to the destruc- 
tion and downfall of pure Christianity, and of eve- 
ry principle that ennobles man's nature, only through 
inability to enforce it. The words are the follow- 
ing: '^Nulli ergo omnino hominum liceat banc pa- 
ginam nostrae ablationis, et abolitionis, permissionis, 
revocationis, prsecepti,mandati5decreti,prohibitionis, 
cohortationis, voluntatis infringere, vel ei ausu teme- 
rario contraire. Si quis autem attenlare praesump- 
serit, indignationem omnipotentis Dei, ac beatorum 
Petri & Pauli, Apostolorum ejus se noverit incur- 
surum. Dat. Romse apud Sanctum Petrum, anno 
incarnationis Dominicae MDLXVIII. Sep. Idus 
lul. Pontificatus nostri, anno tertio.'' {"Let not any 
one therefore break through^ or go against this our 
page of abolition, ablation, (of the former breviaries) 
revocation, precept, command, decree, prohibition, 
exhortation, and will; or dare act, contrary to it. 
But if any one dare attempt to do so, he may be 
sure of incurring the indignation of Almighty 
Gody and of his blessed apostles, Peter and -Paul. 



58 SIX YEARS IN THE 

Dated at Rome from St. Peter's in the year of the 
Lord's incarnation 1568, on the seventh of the Ides 
of July, and in the third year of our pontificate.'^) 

The life of every pope from the first to the be- 
ginning of the fifth century is fraught with fables of 
their sanctity and supremacy; and of the many mi- 
racles performed by them in defending and uphold- 
ing the religion of Christ among the Pagans of the 
day. Their supremacy especially and the acknow- 
ledgment of it by the laity and clergy of the pri- 
mitive church, are things more particularly dwelt 
upon. Out of a great man}^ stories of this kind, I 
will select a few, which, to avoid all suspicion of fic- 
tion, must be given in the language of the breviary 
— the Latin. The translation is annexed for the use 
of those not acquainted with that language. 

In the life of JNIarcellus, pope and martyr, whose 
festival is celebrated by the cluirch of Rome, on the 
15th of January, we are told that he performed the 
ofiice of high priest, or pope, during the reign of 
Constantius and Galerius; that, by his advice, two 
Ro!nan matrons bestowed their riches (a broad hint 
to modern Roman women) on the church; the one 
named Priscilla having built a cemetery for the use 
of the Christians; the other called Lucina having 
bequeathed all her wealth to the disposal of the 
church, without specifying any particular object. 
We are further informed, that the holy pontiff* wrote 
an epistle to the bishop of the province of Antioch, 
in which he claims the primacy for the church at 
Rome^ and in which he evidently proves to demon- 
stration, that that church should be called the head 
of all other churches. We are told, that in the 
same epistle there can be found written these words: 
''No council can be lawfully assembled nor cele- 
brated without the authority of the supreme pon- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 59 

tiffy^ The original Latin is as follows: Marcel- 
lus Romanus a Constantio et Galerio usque ad Max- 
entium pontilicatum gessit; cujus hortatu duse ma- 
tronse Romanae, Priscilla coemeterium suis sumptibus 
.... edificandum curavit; Lueina bonorum suo- 
rum Dei ecclesiam fecit haeredem Scrip- 
sit epistolam ad episcopos Antiochenae provincias de 
primatu Romanse ecclesios, quam caput ecclesiarum 
appellandam dernonstrat. Ubi etiam illud scriptum 
est, "nullum concilium jure celebrari, nisi ex aucto- 
ritate summi pontificis/^ 

The foregoing story is probably intended to show 
foith the authorit}^ of bishops of Rome in the first 
ages of the church. By Marcellus being represent- 
ed to have persuaded two Roman matrons to leave 
their property at the disposal of the church, it is 
hinted, that those who act so, are doing something 
meritorious in the sight of God; and that such ac- 
tions should be more frequently imitated in modern 
times. His writing an epistle to the Bishop of 
Antioch and his suffragans, claiming primary for the 
church at Rome, and endeavouring to prove that this 
church is the head of all other churches, is nothing 
else than making him arrogate to himself and his 
church an authority, w-hich, it may be supposed, he 
never once thought upon; papal supremacy being 
evidently the invention of later years. 

* Summus Pontifex, or Pontifex maximus was an officer in pa- 
gan Rome, who had the direction of the sacrifices and cererponies 
appointed to be performed in honour of the gods. It was his duty 
also to go through the ceremonies of augury. The modern Chris- 
tian Romans imitating their pagan ancestors in this as well as ma 
ny other things, call the bishop of their city "Pontifex maximus," 
or in Italian "Summo pontefice." It is a remarkable coincidence, 
that the Scftne name is given by the Tartars to their Grand Lama, 
who is adored and worshipped by them in the same way as the 
pope is by Romanists. 



60 SIX YEARS IN THE 

The next life we give an extract from, is that of 
Gregory the First. . In him, a pope is held up as an 
example of humility, charity, and learning. Fearing 
to be elected to the popedom, he hid himself in a 
cave; but being discovered by means of a pillar of 
fire, indicating the place in which he lay hid, much 
against his will, he is conducted to St. Peter^s, and 
there consecrated. He invited to his table daily a 
number of pilgrims, and once had the happiness to 
receive, as his guests, an angel, and the Lord of 
Angels, disguised as pilgrims. He restored the Ca- 
tholic faith, which was declining in many places. 
He repressed the boldness of John, Patriarch of 
Constantinople^ who arrogated to himself the 
title of universal bishop. He turned away from 
his purpose the Emperor Mauritius, who wished to 
hinder those that were formerly soldiers from be- 
coming monks. He wrote many books, which, 
whilst dictating, Peter, the deacon, often saw the 
Holy Ghost over his head in the form of a dove. 
Truly admirable were the things which he said, 
which he did, which he wrote, and which he de- 
creed. Having performed many miracles, he was at 
length called to heavenly happiness; and the day on 
which he died is observed as a festival even by the 
Greeks^ on account of the eminent sanctity of so 

great a pontifi*. (Gregorius Magnus, honorem 

(pontificatus) ne acciperet, quamdiu potuit, recusa- 
vit: nam alieno vestitu in spelunca dilituit, ubi de- 
prehensus igneas columnse indicio, ad Sanctum Pe- 
trum consecratur. Perigrinos quotidie ad mensam 
adhibuit, in quibus et angelum, et angelorum domi- 
num perigrini facie accepit. Catholicam fidem multis 
locis labefactatam restituit. Joannis Patriarchse Con- 
stantinopolitanse ecclesiae audaciam fregit, qui sibi 
universalis ecclesiae episcopi nomen arrogabat. Mau- 
ritium imperatorem hos, qui milites fuerunt, mona- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 61 

chos fieri prohibentem a sententia deterruit. Multos 
libros confecit, quos cum dictarat, testatur Petrus 
Diaconus, se spiritum sanctum columbse specie in 
ejus capite seepe vidisse. Admirabilia sunt, quae 

dixitj-fecit, scripsit, decrevit Qui denique, mul- 

tis editis miraculis, quarto Idus Martii, qui dies fes- 
tus a Graecis etiam propter insignem hujus pontificis 
sanctitatem praecipuo honore celebratur, ad caelestem 
beatitudinem evocatus est.) 

The life of Gregory, as it stands in the breviary j 
for there are related various lives of the same pope, 
differing from one another as much as popery dif- 
fers from pure Christianity, is intended to set forth 
to the world an example of a pope, humble, charita- 
ble, and learned. His humility in refusing the pope- 
dom, and his charity in relieving the v/ants of pil- 
grims, and in inviting them to his own table, are 
worthy of admiration, if true, and worthy of imita- 
tion by his successors. The fable, of his having en- 
tertained at his table an angel, and the Lord of 
Angels, carries with it its own refutation, as does 
also the attestation of Peter, the Deacon, who swore 
that he often saw a dove, i. e., the Holy Ghost in- 
spiring him whilst he dictated his works — works, 
too, which, taking them in general, would do very 
little honour to a man of sense and talents, relying 
on his own natural genius. How must thej^' then 
derogate from the honour of the Deity, when attri- 
buted to the Holy Ghost? The papal supremacy 
is never lost sight of; it is never omitted to be 
brought before the mind of the reader of the bre- 
viary whenever an opportunity presents. For the 
sake of upholding that supremacy, every thing, hav- 
ing the appearance of an argument in its favour is 
brought forward. Thus, Gregory breaks the bold- 
ness (such is the literal translation of the Latin word 
'' frangere'') of another, his equal in dignity, who 
6 



62 SIX YEARS IN THE 

assumes the title of" universal bishop.'^ From this 
we are led to infer, that to the Bishop of Rome 
alone such a title belongs. For the many wonderful 
things which he did and said, I fear the world 
now-a-days have not that respect which in the opi- 
nion of some they deserve. No, thank God and the 
Bible, the world is growing daily too wise to be 
duped any longer by lying wonders. 

The life of Leo I. is another proof, that the sole 
desire, indeed the chief end of the breviary, is the 
exalting of popes above their fellow man. We will 
relate it as it stands in the breviary. 

Leo, the First, by birth a Tuscan, governed the 
church of God at the time that Attila, King of the 
Huns, surnamed " the scourge of God,^' invaded 
Italy, and, after a siege of three years, phjndered, 
and afterwards set fire to the city of Aquila. He 
was already preparing to pass the Mincius with his 
army, in order to attack Rome itself, when Le > 
went to meet him, and persuaded him, by his divine 
eloquence, to lay aside his purpose. Attila, being 
afterwards asked by his followers, " for what reason, 
contrary to his usual custom, he had so humbly 
obeyed the commands of the pontiff?'^ made answer, 
" that he feared a supernatural being, dressed in the 
habit of a priest, who threatened him with instant 
death if he dared resist the commands of Leo.'' 
Among others of his holy statutes, there is to be 
found one by which it is decreed, 'that no nun in fu- 
ture should receive a blessed cuveriug for her head 
unless she could prove forty years of virginity. 
(Leo Primus, Etruscus, eo tempore prsefuit ecclesiae 
cum rex Hunnorum Attila, cognomento flagellum 
Dei,inltaliam invadens, Aqueleiamtriennii obsidione ' 
captam diripuisset, incendit; unde cum Roman ar- 
denti furore raperetur, jamque copias, ubi Mincius 
in Padum influit, trajicere pararet, occurrit ei Leo, 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 63 

malorum Italise misericordia permotus, cujus divina 
eloquentia persuasum est Altilae, ut regrederetur, qui 
interrogatus a suis, quid esset, quod prseler consue- 
tudinem tarn humiliter Romani pontificis imperata 
faceret, respondit, se stantem alium, illo loquente, 
sacerdotali habitu veritum esse, sibi stricto gladio 

minitantem mortem, nisi Leoni obtemperaret 

Statuit, (Leo) et sanxit, ne monacha benedictum ca- 
pitis velum reeiperet, nisi quadriginta annorum vir- 
gin itatem pro basset.) 

Leo, surnamed the Great, is ushered into our no- 
tice, under the usual title of governor of the church, 
(rexit ecclesiam,) in order to make us believe that 
on him alone, and, consequently, on his successors 
in the Roman see, devolves all ecclesiastical govern- 
ment. He is represented as compassionating the 
forlorn state of Italy, ravaged by the conquering 
Hunn, and fearlessly going forth to meet him, and 
exerting his divine eloquence in order to turn him 
from his design of invading Rome. But why did 
Attila obey his commands? for what were but en- 
treaties in the beginning, are, under the magical 
hands of the compilers of the breviary, transformed 
into commands {imperata) in the very next sen- 
tence. Because he feared death, which St. Peter, 
who is intended by the supernatural appearance of 
the person in the habit of a priest, and with a drawn 
sword in his hand, threatened him with, unless he 
obeyed the pontiff. What other good or glorious 
thing did he perform, in order to justly deserve the 
surname of great? Why, he ordained that nuns 
should prove forty years' virginity before that the 
veils, which they w^ore on their heads, would be 
sprinkled with holy water! A truly great edict, 
and well worthy of a pope. This is also an indirect 
way of holding up to public admiration the detesta- 
ble system of secluding females in nunneries, and of 



64 SIX YEARS IN THE 

extolling virginity as the greatest of all virtues. Hu- 
man nature, and nuns too, must have been very dif- 
ferent in the time of Leo from what they are now- 
a-days, or few, very few nuns obtained the honour 
of a blessed veil* 



CHAPTER X. 

Continuation of extracts from the breviary — Marcellinus — The 
pope sacrifices to idols — Why he could not be judged by the 
church — Infallibility, a species of impeccability — John — The tes- 
timony of a horse in favor of his claims — Remarks thereon — A 
Sample of Gregory the Great's works — Review of the Bishop of 
Rome's claim to Supremacy — Never acknowledged by the Greek 
church — Uninterrupted succession — Imaginary popes manufac- 
tured. 

Not to weary the reader too much, I will give in 
my own words, without adhering, as I have done 
hitherto, to the letter of the breviary, extracts from 
the lives of two popes more — saints, to be sure, as 
popes always are. 

* Scipio Ricci, Bishop of Pistoja, in Tuscany, has had the ho- 
nesty to give the world a view of the private life of nuns. His de- 
scription of the vices and immoralities practised in the Dominican 
nunnery of Sienna, better known by the name of " Santa Catarina," 
(St. Catharine's,) would not bear recital. The smaller nunneries 
of his own diocess (Pistoja) were equally sunk in impiety, and un- 
nameable vices. His testimony cannot be suspected ; for it was in 
the exercise of his visitatorial office, to which he was appointed by 
the court of Rome, that he made the discoveries, (which, by the 
way, were only a confirmation of his former suspicions,) above al- 
luded to. His work "on Nunneries" has been translated into 
English, and printed in London some few years back. I am not 
aware that it has been reprinted as yet in America. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 65 

Marcellinus, who lived in the reign of Dioclesian 
having sacrificed to idols, and repenting of his apos- 
tacy afterward, presented himself before an assembly 
of one hundred and eighty bishops, in order to ask 
pardon of the church for the scandal he had given, 
and to receive the usual penance.* The whole as- 
sembly unanimously cried out, when made acquaint- 
ed with the object of its convocation, " that it had no 
authority to judge him, for the supreme pastor can- 
not be judged by an'earthly tribunal" — " Nam prima 
sedes a nemine judicatur." Now, the question na- 
turally arises, had Marcellinus the attribute of in- 
fallibility attached to his person, or even to his of- 
fice, when he scandalized the church by sacrificing 
to idols? The answer is plain, nor is the difficulty 
easily got over by the advocates of papal infallibili- 
ty, though they endeavour to shelter themselves 
under a covering of metaphysical distinctions, such 
as " loquens vel agens ex cathedra, aut non ex ca- 
thedra." (Speaking or acting from his chair of of- 
fice, or not from his chair.t) In this erring pope, 

* It was customary in the ancient church to make public sin- 
ners do public penance in presence of the congregation, on cer- 
tain days appointed for that purpose. Among the public sinners 
were classed those, who either through weakness, or fear of tor- 
ture had sacrificed to idols. 

t The pope is said to be infallible, when he establishes any ar- 
ticle of faith, necessary to be believed by the whole church, or when 
he performs any public act, which the faithful cannot sin by imi- 
tating. If he should, as many popes have done, fall into error and 
heresy, the difficulty is got over by distinguishing between his 
public and private character: as a man he can err; as a pope, he 
can never err. In the case of pope Marcellinus, it is to be pre- 
sumed, that he acted in a public capacity, whilst sacrificing to 
idols; and thereby established the lawfulness of idol-worship. 
Where then is that boasted infallibility, or was it even thought 
upon in the ages of the primitive church? We have on record va- 

6^ 



66 SIX TEARS IN THE 

however, the claim of supremacy is not forgotten, 
for the synod is represented by the breviary, crying 
out with one accord, " that it had no power to judge 
or give the usual penance to the Vicar of Christ.'^ 
What an unblushing disregard for truth is here ap- 
parent in the compilers of the breviary! What an 
anachronism! The title of '^ Vicar of Christ'' or 
that of" Supreme Pastor" was never given to the 
Bishop of Rome, or acknowledged by any portion 
of the Christian church, till miiny centuries after; 
that is, until the Church of Rome obtained temporal 
dominion, and resolved to use it in forcing her sub- 
jects to acknowledge whatever claim her bishop 
might think proper to assume. Tliis is a fact well- 
known to every reader of ecclesiastical history. 

The following, which shall be the last extract, re- 
lating to popes, has in it something so ridiculous, and 
at the same time sets forth in so strong a light the 
pitiable contrivances of the defenders of a false reli- 
gion, and their monstrous dev^iations from truth, 
that I cannot refrain from m.entioning it, though at 
the hazard of being thought wearisome. It is taken 
from the life of John I. 

John, by birth a Tuscan, ruled the church in the 

rious popes, who erred in articles of faith — essential articles too, 
and who are excused in the way mentioned above, or by making* 
an appeal to the weakness of human nature. But they are not to 
be censured so much for their errors, as for claiming to be supe- 
rior to error, or above it — in fine, for claiming as their due, an at- 
tribute belonging to God alone — a species of impeccability. The 
scandalous lives of some popes are too well known to need any 
comment. The names of Alexander VI and John XXII will go 
down to the latest posterity, linked with the names of Nero, Ro- 
bespierre, and Henry VIII of England, or with some other names 
rendered immortal by tyranny, cruelty, lust, and debauchery. 
What worthy representatives of Christ! 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 67 

reign of Tuslin, the Elder. He was obliged to flee 
from Rome on account of the persecutions of Theo- 
doric, a heretical King, and take refuge in Constan- 
tinople at the court of the Emperor. His journey 
to the latter capital was remarkable for miracles, and 
for the singular testimony which one of the brute 
creation bore to \\\s really being the Vicar of Christ. 
The circumstances connected with the brute's testi- 
money are the following: the pope borrowed a horse 
from a certain nobleman, to carr\^ him a part of the 
w^ay, which horse, on account of its tameness and 
gentleness, was set apart for the sole use of the no- 
bleman's wife. On its being returned to the owner, 
the lady, of course, attempted to use it as formerly, 
but, mirabile dictu,the horse, from beingso gentle and 
tame before, became on a sudden wild and restive, 
and more especially so, whenever the lady ap- 
proached for the purpose of getting on its back; Me 
animal scorning^ (says the breviary) to carry a 
woman J since it had been once honored by carry- 
ing the Vicar oj Christ, (Quasi indignaretur mulie- 
rem recipere, ex quo sedisset in eo Christi Vicarius.) 
On which account the horse was made a present of 
to the Supreme Pontifl'.* 

What follows, will be thought a still greater mira- 
cle. On the pontifl's entering the gates of Constan- 
tinople, he was met by an immense concourse of 
people, which with the Emperor at its head ad- 
vanced to meet him in order to do him honor. 

* It may be asked, whether the bones of this holy horse are pre- 
served, as they ought to be, in some church for the veneration of 
the faithful? To this very pertinent question, I can answer, nei- 
ther negatively nor affirmatively; but thus far I can say, that there 
are much'more ridiculous relics daily held out to be kissed and 
bowed down to by the devotees of popish Europe. — But of this more 
in a separate chapter. 



68 SIX YEARS IN THE 

There, in presence of the Emperor, and of Ihe as- 
sembled multitude, he performed a most stupendous 
miracle, by giving sight to a blind man. The Em- 
peror and his people, seeing his power and its ef- 
fects, immediately and with one accord prostrated 
themselves at his feet, and adored him! — Cujus ad 
pedes prostratus etiam imperator veneratus est. On 
returning to Italy, he commanded, that all the chur- 
ches built by the Arians, should be consecrated for 
Catholic worship; which command so displeased the 
heretical King, Theodoric, that having got posses- 
sion of the person of the holy pontifi' by stratagem, 
he cast him into prison, where he soon after died of 
the privations, which he underwent. Theodoric 
himself did not long survive him. It is related by 
St. Gregory, another pope, that a certain pious her- 
mit saw his soul immersed in the liquid flames of 
Lipari,* in the presence of Pope John, and of ano- 
ther person, whose death he had also caused. 

Here is a pope, whose whole life was taken up in 
performing the pontifical duties, and in working 
miracles, to which, mind, a belief equal to that given 
to any of the miracles of the Gospel, is required to 
be given. Without inquiring, whether it became 
him as a shepherd to desert his flock, and leaving it 
to the rage and fury of a persecuting tyrant, to seek 
refuge and protection for himself; let us accompany 
him on his journey to Constantinople. The story 
about the horse is so shamelessly absurd, that were 
ahorse able to comprehend it, he would probably 
kick at the narrator for his disregard for truth. But 

* Lipari, an island in the Mediterranean off the coast of Sicily, 
in which there is a large volcano. It is not far from the celebra- 
ted one of Mongibello, or Mount Etna, which can be seen from it. 
A sweet delicious wine, caUed Marvasia, is there produced in abun- 
dance. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 69 

then the horse was given as a present to the pope. 
Yes, and why not? The pope very probably want- 
ed one, and — if, indeed, there be even the shadow 
of a foundation for this bare-faced lie — so jockeyed 
that which was lent to him, that he made the poor 
beast serve a double purpose; his own profit, by hav- 
ing it bestowed to him; and his character, by being, 
through its means, confirmed in the assumed title of 
Vicar of Christ. That title, and the authority at- 
tached to it, must certainly have very little founda- 
tion in truth, even in the opinion of its supporters, 
when they grasp at so ridiculous a testimony as 
a horse's. Were such a story related to the in- 
habitants of modern Rome, they would reply, with 
the Italian shrug of the shoulders, that the horse was 
priest-ridden, (which is literally true,) or had been 
fascinated by the pope; the power of fascination be- 
ing attributed to the Holy Father, as well as the 
power of the keys. It is most probable, however, 
that the story has no foundation whatever in truth, 
it being merely an invention of modern popery, fit 
to be used as an argument, through want of a better, 
in favour of an assumed authority. 

The miracle of giving sight to a blind man, is no- 
thing more than a preliminary to what follows; that 
is, to the adoration of the pope by the emperor and 
people. Certainly, the like adoration is practised 
daily by modern worshippers of the pope, without 
so good a cause for such impiety as had been given 
by the forementioned miracle, whether true or fic- 
titious. As to Gregory's fable about the hermit who 
saw Theodoric's soul plunged into the liquid fire of 
Lipari, it is too ridiculous for serious comment. It 
gives, however, a sample of Gregory's works — 
works, which, as has been before related, are blas- 
phemously attributed to the Holy Spirit that was 
seen in the form of a dove hovering around the au 



70 SIX YEARS IN THE 

thor's head whilst dictating them. The rest of his 
worksj with very few exceptions, are on a par with 
this story— the ravings of the disordered imagination 
of a bedlamite. 

The foregoing extracts clearly show, that the au- 
thority of the pope, and the bringing forward argu- 
ments in support of that authority, are things con- 
stantly kept in view by the compilers of the breviary 
whilst relating the lives and exploits of the first 
bishops of Rome. They seem never to pay any re- 
gard to history, or to the authentic records of the 
ancient churchy which are either entirely silent on 
the subject of supremacy, it being a claim then un- 
known; or when mention is made of it, it is only to 
repress the presumption of some bishop daring ta 
claim it for himself. The Greek church, long before 
its final separation from the Latin, which did not 
take place till towards the middle of the eleventh 
century, never acknowledged that the Bishop of 
Rome had a greater extent of authority in the uni- 
versal church than any other bishop had in his own 
particular diocess, and therefore regarded with be- 
coming contempt, and resisted every attempt made 
by the Roman bishops to bring the eastern churches 
under their sway. In the famous controversy re- 
lating to the procession of the Holy Ghost, Photius, 
the Patriarch of Jerusalem, having been excommu- 
nicated by Pope Nicholas, convened an assembly, 
and pronounced sentence of excommunication against 
Nicholas himself in return, which he got subscribed 
by twenty bishops, and others, amounting in all to 
one thousand. This occurred in the middle of the 
ninth century. I mention it here chiefly to show, 
that supremacy, however it may be laid claim to by 
the Church of Rome, was never acknowledged by 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 71 

the whole Christian church. The claims to su- 
premacy being then without foundation, infallibility, 
of which it is the support, falls of its own accord. 

As for the sanctity of life, and performance of 
miracles attributed to the early bishops of Rome, 
some better authority than that of the breviary is 
needed, in order to justly giv^e them any degree of 
credence. There certainly were, it may be sup- 
posed, many pious and holy men overseers of the 
Christian community in the church at Rome during 
the ages of pagan idolatry, but the names of the 
greater number of these are lost, having never 
reached beyond their own times, by reason of the 
distracted state of the primitive church. In order, 
however, to make up an uninterrupted succession 
from St. Peter down to our own days, many who 
never existed at all but in the brain of some monk- 
ish annalist, are made claimants for infallibility 
and supremacy. Lives are written for them, and 
miracles are related, as if performed by them: the 
imaginary saints are enrolled in the army of martyrs 
or confessors, as it may best suit the purpose or the 
fancy of their biographers to make them either the 
one or the other.* But so far from the succession 

* Confessor, according- to the signification attached to the word 
by the ancient church, means a Christian, who, of his own ac- 
cord^ presented himsell before the tribunal of some persecuting- 
judge, and openly avowed his belief in the religion of Jesus Christ. 
If brought before that tribunal by force, but did not deny the fkith, 
when questioned by the judge, he was called also a confessor though 
of a class inferior to the former. If punished by death for this 
open avowal, he is styled a martyr. The Romish Church calls every 
monk, whom the folly of his order had got canonized or beatified, 
by the specious name of ' confessor''; though far from confessing- 
Christ to be God, he never thought about the matter at all, and only 
confessed the pope to be infallible and supreme pastor of the church. 
How different from the primitive confessors ! 



72 SIX YEARS IN THE 

of the bishops of Rome being uninterrupted, it is 
even doubted by many historians, whether St. Peter 
was ever at Rome, at all. He certainly was at An- 
tioch, and preached there the glad-tidings of salva- 
tion, but his having been at Rome by no means 
rests on equal certainty. The church of Antioch, 
therefore, seems to have a better right to the title of 
the first see, if that title be essentially attached 
(which it is not) to the person of Peter; or if indeed 
such a title belongs by right to any church whatever. 
If then the reality of St. Peter's ever having been 
at Rome, be in itself a matter of doubt, with how 
much greater reason may the fabulous lives of many, 
who are called his successors, be called in question. 
And even granting for the moment, that those men 
did exist,does it then follow, they arrogated to them- 
selves the anti-Christian attributes of modern popes? 
Did they claim supremacy and infallibility, or did 
they endeavour to exalt themselves and their see at 
the expense of every Gospel precept? If we be- 
lieve the breviary, we must say, " they did.'' But 
the few extracts I have given from it, showing what 
stress should be laid on its authority, will, I trust, 
caution the reader from coming to that conclusion. 
I leave him, however, to judge for himself, and make 
use of his own powers of discrimination, whilst I 
proceed to the examination of another portion of 
the same book — that containing the memoirs of 
the saints, or deified men who were not popes. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 73 



CHAPTER XI. 

Continuation of extracts from the Breviary — St Vincent Ferreri — 
Miracle — Suspension of the laws of nature — Remarks — Adora- 
tion of Vincent at Valencia — St. Anthony of Padua — Preaches 
to the Birds — Hymn composed in his honor — His Miracles — 
Sailing without ship or boat — Removal of Mountains — St. Denis 
walking with his head in his hand — Shrine of an Italian Saint — 
Concluding remarks on the Breviary. 

No doctrine is so fondly adhered to by the church 
of Rome as the invocatiou of saints, nor is there any 
other supported by so monstrous a mass of absurd 
fables as the same. The greater part of the brevia- 
ry is taken up in relating the actions and miracles 
performed by them, and in giving a history of the 
many favors and graces obtained through their in- 
tercession, by the numerous devotees, who idola- 
trously bow down to and worship their images and 
relics. No fable is thought too absurd, no pretended 
miracle too contradictory, when related, as being per- 
formed by some saint. The lives of monks especi- 
ally — and the greater part of modern saints were 
either monks or nuns — are dwelt upon with peculiar 
emphasis. Their poverty, their self-denial, their 
obedience, are all related in classical Latin. Then 
comes the history of the miracles performed^by them, 
of how they were canonized, and of the favors ob- 
tained at their shrine before and after canonization. 
I shall make two or three extracts from the many, 
whose absurdity renders them worthy of remark. 
I shall give them in my own words, inviting those, 
who may be inclined to doubt their authenticity, to 
examine for themselves. 
7 



74 SIX YEARS IN THE 

In the life of St. Vincent Ferreri, a Dominican 
Friar, we are told, that he performed so many mira- 
cles, that his superior, fearing lest their frequency 
would make them be undervalued in the eyes of the 
people, deemed it prudent to command him to ab- 
stain from miracle-working in future without hav- 
ing obtained first express leave from himself. This 
command, Vincent, like a good monk, submitted to, 
being always remarkable for his prompt obedience. 
It happened one day after this prohibition, as he w^as 
returning from celebrating mass at the cathedral 
church of Valencia, that he saw a mason in the act 
of falling from a scaflold erected on the side of a high 
building. Not being allowed to assist him by a 
miracle without express leave from his superior, and 
being at this tin)e more than a mile from his convent, 
he cried out to the falling mason, " stop there, sus- 
pended between earth and heaven, till 1 go to my 
convent, and obtain permission from my superior to 
assist thee and to miraculously restore thee to life, 
if, as is n)Ost probable, thou shouldst be killed by the 
fall.^' So saying, Vincent hurried away as fast as 
his feet could carry him to his convent in order to 
obtain the desired permission, and having laid the 
case before his superior, he happily obtained it. In 
the m.ean time, crowds assembled from all parts of 
the city to see the mason miraculously sitting in the 
air without any support; and being informed that 
it was caused by command of the holy Vincent, his 
fame grew more and more with the people. The 
story then tells us, that the mason was rescued from 
his perilous situation by the endeavours of those as- 
sembled, and so saved Vincent the trouble of restor- 
ing him to life, if he were killed. 

This story, ridiculous as it may seem, is neverthe- 
less strongly believed by many devotees of his Do- 
minican saintship. Indeed a belief in it is sanctioned 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 75 

by the head of the Romish church himself, it having 
been declared a true miracle by an assembly of car- 
dinals, and bishops, held at Rome previous to the 
canonization of Vincent, and brought forward as one 
of his strongest claims for being enrolled among the 
number of saints. Pictures representing the mira- 
cle are every where to be found in the Dominican 
churches, whilst smaller ones, engraved designedly 
for the use of the common people, are to be found in 
their houses and pasted on their walls. There is a 
Dominican convent at Chieti, a town of the province 
of the Abruzzi, in the kingdom of Naples, in the 
church of which, the subject of this miracle is taken 
for an altar-piece.* I was once conversing with a 
Spanish priest, whom I saw at Rome, on the subject 
of this miracle, and on the extraordinary adoration 
paid to Vincent by all Spaniards, and more especial- 
ly by the citizens of Valencia. He assured me, that 
the doubting of any one thing attributed to St. Vin- 
cent, would be thought by the Valentians the great- 
est of all heresies, and that the unfortunate sceptic 
would incur the risk of being torn asunder by the 
enraged rabble. Even in the pulpits, where it might 
be supposed at least, that nothing but the vital prin- 
ciples of Christianity would be preached, Domini- 
can preachers relate the life and miracles of St. Vin- 
cent to an astonished multitude, and he is esteemed 
the best preacher, who can preach the best panegy- 
ric on their favourite saint. His festival is held in 
Valencia a day of rejoicing; the guns of the garrison 

* An altar-piece means that picture, which is placed over the 
altar of popish churches. It is generally a representation of the 
crucifixion, or of the last supper, or of some other remarkable event 
mentioned in the Gospel Monks, in place of thes3 scriptural pie- 
ces^ generally have for altar-pieces the picture of their fou ider, or 
of some saint of their order. 



76 SIX YEARS IN THE 

are fired, and the soldiers present^their arms to his 
image as it is carried processionally through the 
streets, dressed up in a Dominican habit, surrounded 
by the clergy with large wax-torches in their hands, 
and followed by the multitude, crying out " gracia, 
Santo Vincentio, gracia, Santo Vineentio/' (favor, 
St. Vincent, favor, St. Vincent.) 

One thing is more especially remarkable in the 
foregoing story. Vincent, though expressly forbid- 
den under pain of disobedience to work any more 
miracles, yet when he saw the imminent danger of 
the poor mason, forgot this prohibition altogether* 
How then did he reconcile this act of disobedience 
with the vow, by which he promised to obey^to the 
letter every command, which his superior might 
think fit to lay upon him? It is got over by saying, 
that his holy simplicity did not allow him to ima- 
gine, that causing a suspension of the laws of nature 
could be thought a transgression against the com- 
mand of his superior, and he therefore ordered the 
mason to remain in the air, until he could get his 
leave. ^ 

Our next extract from the breviary is taken from 
the life of Saint Anthony of Padua. 

"Anthony was born at Lisbon, the capital of Por- 
tugal. From his very birth, he gave evident signs 
of his future holiness. Whilst yet an infant at his 

* The above was a case of conscience (as like cases arc called) 
actually given by a lecturer on Moral Theology to his students: 
and which, after having been debated upon for some hours, was, 
in the end, decided to the satisfaction of all present, by attributing 
the act of disobedience on the part of Vincent to a holy simplici- 
ty. The case was the more difficult, because no one could have 
the boldness to bring a verdict of sinfulness against the saint, the 
miracle having had the approval of the pope, and therefore unim. 
peachable. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 7? 

mother's breast, he was observed to abstain from her 
milk e\ery Friday and Fast-day, thou2;h on other 
days he satisfied his hunger, like any other child. 
He was early distino;uished for the love he bore to 
the friars of the Franciscan order. One day, a 
Franciscan laj-brother * came to his father's house 
begging for something to supply the wants of his 
convent, but being refused, the child Anthony, then 
only six months old, broke out into a fit of crying 
and became so agitated throughout his whole frame, 
that his mother suspecting the reason, deemed it ne- 
cessary to call the lay-brother back, and contribute 
to his wants. The child was then instantly appeased, 
and showed evidently b}" his laughing in the face of 
the lay-brother, and playing with his beard, what 
was the cause of his crying. At two years old, he 
was a constant attendant at the hol}^ sacrifice of the 
mass; and even at that early age, learned without 
an instructor the manner of answering the priest, 
whilst celebrating that divine ceremony. At the 
age of fourteen, he embraced the Franciscan order, 
and distinguished himself in a short time for his 
love of fasting and other mortifications. He never 
eat but one meal a day during lent, and that very 
sparingly. To mortify every desire of the flesh, he 
was accustomed to mix ashes with his food, lest he 
should experience the slightest enjoyment from the 
sense of taste. Having finished his studies and be- 
ing ordained priest^ he was deemed a fit subject to 

* Lay-brothers are the servants of the monasteries, and general- 
ly go about the towns and villages, collecting money for the service 
of the community. They are, for the most part, very ignorant; few 
of them having ever learned to read. They are professed, like the 
other friars, and instead of the oflSce from the breviary, they mum- 
ble over so many Pater noster's and Ave Maria's. Many of them 
become saints. Ignorance is the mother of popish sanctity. 



78 SIX YEARS IN THE 

send as missionary to Turkey. But God, who had 
chosen him from his infancy to be a vessel of elec- 
tion, designed him for another work — the work of 
converting the city of Padua, at that time sunk deep 
in the mire of vice and debauchery."^ 

The ship, in which he left Lisbon, being obliged 
by unfavourable w^eather to put into Venice; the 
saint retired to his convent in the latter city. A 
preacher being wanted for the neighbouring city of 
Padua, the man of God was chosen, (God Himself 
surely directing the choice,) to carry the words of 
life to that dissolute city. The Paduans at first re- 
fused to listen to him, but he attracted their atten- 
tion by a stupendous miracle. One day, the cla- 
mour became louder than usual against hearing the 
word of God, when the saint, turning away from 
the stone-hearted people, invited the birds of the 
air to come and hear the tidings of salvation. In an 
instant, the church was tilled with birds, which, for- 
getting their natural timidity, perched on every side 
around the pulpit, and attentively listened to the ser- 
mon. The people seeing this, threw themselves at 
the saint's feet, atid humbly entreated his prayers 
and intercession, to avert the arm of God, which 
was going to visit them for the neglect of his word, 
and of his servant. The saint, by preaching that 
whole lent, converted nearly the entire population; 
so that there were not priests enough lo hear the 
confessions of the numbers approaching the tribunal 
of penance. Priests were sent for from the neigh- 
bouring cities, and the people became reconciled to 
God through their agency. Nor would they ever 
allow Anthony to leave them afterwards, but pray- 
ed and entreated him to remain among them; which 
he did to the end of his mortal career. A no less 
surprising miracle than the one already related is 
the following: in this his first mission, Anthony was 



MONASTERIES OP ITALY, &C. 79 

wholly unacquainted with the Italian language, and 
therefore preached to the Paduans in Portuguese, 
his native language, which the latter understood for 
Italian, and were surprised that a foreigner could 
have a greater command of it than they had them- 
selves. When, however, Anthony modestly made 
known, how the affair actually stood; then their re- 
spect and esteem for the holy man increased ten- 
fold. He performed other innumerable miracles, 
curing the sick, giving sight to the blind, limbs to 
the limbless; children to the childless, and teeth to 
the toothless! He at last passed to receive the crown 
of glory, which his works so richly merited, full 
of the odour of sanctity.'^ 

Such is the life of Anthony of Padua, the great 
idol of the Italians, and the fitting instrument to 
make a superstitious people bear patiently the galling 
yoke of popish tyranny. Such are the actions, and 
such the marvellous works attributed to this Chris- 
tian Juggernaut by popular superstition, excited by 
priest-craft. As great as the veneration is, in which 
Vincent Ferreri is held at Valencia, greater by far 
is that, in which Anthony is held in Padua, and in- 
deed in every town and village of Italy, w^hich is so 
unfortunate as to be pestered with a convent of Fran- 
ciscan friars. His name is given by parents to their 
new-born bibes; and that child is superstitiously 
supposed to be guarded, and protected from all sick- 
ness, and other evils attending the infant state, by 
the saint, whose name it has the honour to bear. It 
is no uncommon thing to find a whole family, and 
almost a whole village, with few exceptions, every 
individual of which is named after this saint. Nor 
would it be any easy matter to distinguish them one 
from the other, were it not for the additional name 
of some minor saint, affiKed or prefixed to the fa- 



so SIX YEARS IN THE 

voured one of Antonio. Thus one is called simply 
Antonio; and for the niost part, this is given as if 
by right, to the eldest child, if a male, and Antonia, 
if a female. Then comes Antonio Francesco, Fran- 
cesco Antonio, &c. for the men, and Giovanna An- 
tonia, or Antonia Vincenza for the women. In the 
city of Padua alone, it has been remarked, that three 
out of five of the inhabitants are baptized by the 
name of Antonio alone or by some other name placed 
before or after it. Many churches are taken up al- 
together with his images, and those of the Madon- 
na; and for one candle lighted in honour of God, there 
are thousands constantly kept burning in honour of 
this idol. His altar is adorned with gold and pre- 
cious stones, whilst that dedicated to Christ is adorn- 
ed with cobwebs. The following hymn composed 
in his honour, and sung before his image, will give 
the reader some idea of the worship and adoration 
paid to this deified monk. 

Si quseris miracula, 
Mors, error, calamitas. 
Demon, lepra fugiunt, 
^g-ri surgunt sani 
Cedunt mare, vincula, 
Membra, resque perditas 
Petunt et accipiunt 
Juvenes et cani 
Narrent hi qui testes fuerunt 
Dicant Paduani. 

The literal translation of the foregoing would be, 
^^If thou seekest miracles, let those relate, who wit- 
nessed them. Let the Paduans relate, how death, 
errors, and calamities retired before the presence of 
Anthony; how devils and lepers flee from his power; 
and how the sick arise from their beds of death, re- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 81 

stored to health. Seas and bondage yield to his con- 
quering hand, whilst young and old look for and re- 
ceive through his intercession their lost limbs.^^ 

Innumerable are the miracles and extraordinary 
exploits attributed by the breviary to every saint in 
the calendar. The miracles of Christ, and the ac- 
tions of the Apostles are nothing when compared to 
them, as if the breviary was expressly designed to 
take away the adoration due to the Creator, and be- 
stow it upon the creature. One, like St Francis de 
Paula, is remarkable for passing deep and rapid tor- 
rents, and oftentimes the sea itself, without the help 
of either boat or ship, these being things necessary 
only for th^ prof anufU vulgus — the herd of man- 
kind, whilst the sanctified monk can at any time 
turn his mantle into a ferry-boat, and acting himself 
as pilot take his companions in his mantle-boat as 
passengers. Another is famed for removing moun- 
tains by a single word; as is related to have been 
done by Gregory Thaumalurgos, or the miracle- 
worker, when a huge mountain, impeded the labors 
of the workmen, employed by him in building a 
church. The saint seeing, that it would take up too 
much time and labor to remove the mountain in 
the ordinary way, ordered it to depart immediately 
from the place, wherein nature had formed it, which 
order the mountain, obedient to the command of the 
holy bishop, immediately obeyed, moving in the 
sight of the assembled workmen to a distance of two 
miles from its former site.^ Some other saint is 

^ The above miracle will probably recall to the mind of the read- 
er the well-known story of Mahomet and the mouutain. There is, 
hov/ever, this difference between the two stories; that Mahomet 
was obliged to go to his mountain, whereas Gregory's mountain 
was commanded to retire from him. The Arabian Impostor, cun- 
ning as he was, had not half the invention of the Christian bishop, 
or rather, of his historians, who, when they attempt a miracle, per- 



82 SIX YEARS IN THE 

famed for walking two miles with his head under 
his arm, after it had been severed from his body; 
which is as probable as the stor}^, believed by some 
of the Irish peasantry, of St. Patrick's swimminj^ 
across the Liffey with his head between his teeth!* 
The favors obtained by faithful believers on touch- 
ing the bodies and relics of the saints, are also re- 
counted by the breviary in classical Latin. Some 
bodies are stated to have continued in a state of in- 
corruption for centuries; others, to have emitted a 
sweet odour on being removed from the place they 
were buried int. Thus the breviary tells us, that 

form it, if words and affirmation can do it. Indeed the Turkish 
historian deserved the bastinado for being thus outdone in the mar- 
vellous by a Christian. 

* In the life of Saint Denis as related by the breviary, we read, 
that " he was judge of the Areopagus at Athens, and that being 
converted to the Christian religion, he was made archbishop of 
Paris, where he suffered martyrdom, and walked two miles with 
his head in his hands;" thus confounding the persons ofDionysius, 
the Areopagite, and of Saint Denis eveque de Paris, contrary to 
the united testimonies of historians, some of whom affirm, that 
Dionysius was never in France in his life, whilst others go still 
farther, and say, that he died a pagan, and that the books going 
under his name, as far as they relate to Christianity, are the inven- 
tion of more modern times. A young French lady being asked 
by her confessor, who was a Jesuit, if she believed that Saint De- 
nis had walked two miles afler his head was chopped off, she re- 
plied with a naivete peculiar to a French woman, " Oui, mon Re- 
verend Pere, si vous etez certain, qu'il a fait le primier pas, pour- 
quoi il ne coute que cela" (Yes, Reverend Father, if you are cer- 
tain, that he had taken the first step, for that is the only difficult 
one.) 

t The bodies of saints are generally removed afler their canoniza- 
tion from the common cemetery, and deposited under an altar erect- 
ed and dedicated in honor of them. So also a shrine was dedica- 
ted in honor of a pagan idol. The shrine of a modern Italian idol 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. • 83 

the tongue of St. Anthony of Padua (whose life has 
been already taken notice of) remains to this day in- 
corrupt in the church of the Franciscans at Padua, 
though it had been buried with his body for more 
than one hundred years; and that favors are granted, 
and miracles daily performed for the relief of those, 
who devotedly w^orship it. Numerous examples 
are given of diseases cured, of the dead brought back 
to life, and of limbs restored; — ^all efl'ects caused by 
having the ailiicted brought in contact with the body 
or relic of some saint. The doctrine of purgatory 
is not lost sight of in the mean time. Souls deliv- 
ered from the fire of purgatory are related to have 
appeared to some one, and to have declared, that 
they owed their deliverance to the intercession of 
some saint, or to the kindness of some friend, who 
paid for a mass, to be celebrated on their behalf at 
ilie altar dedicated to the particular worship of Saint 
such-a-one, invoking at the same time the mediation, 
and pleading the merits of — not Christ, but of the 
deified idol, to whom the altar had been dedicated. 
The breviary is in this way made the prompt- 
book, from which priests are supplied with the ar- 
guments adapted to the propagation, of the soul de- 
is filled with the votive offerings of those, v^ho imagined that they 
obtained some relief in their necessities by praying to the god, 
that inhabits it. If the skill of the surgeon, or chance, sh ould have 
cured a broken limb, the cure is not attributed to either, but to the 
saint, whose assistance was invoked. Horace somewhere men- 
tions a custom of the ancient Romans to hang up a ^^ tabula voti- 
»a" for having obtained some imaginary help from one of their 
gods. In imitation of this custom, the modern Romans adorn the 
walls of a saint's shrine with silver and waxen legs, arms, eyes, crut- 
ches, chains — the offerings of those, who had been cured or libera- 
ted from bondage through the intercession or agency of the saint, to 
whom it is dedicated. If this be not giving praise, honor and glory 
to the creature instead of the Creator, I do not know what ie I ! 



84 SIX YEARS IN THE 

stroying tenets of a religion, which leaves the pre- 
cepts and doctrines of the divine Founder of Chris- 
tianity in the back-ground, and supplies their place 
with the doctrines and inventions of men; doctrines 
too, which, regarded even in a moral light, are by 
many degrees inferior to those delivered by pagan 
philosophers, deprived, as they were, of the light of 
revelation. Though the greater number of priests 
do not believe in the one millionth part of the gross 
absurdities, which they hold out to be believed by 
their deluded followers, yet all with one accord 
work together, the love of filthy lucre being the 
bond of union, for the purpose of establishing as es- 
sential doctrines of the Christian religion those very 
absurdities. In this they are assisted by the brevi- 
ary, which seems as if expressly framed to be an 
auxiliary in their works of deception. The ex- 
tracts taken from it, will, perhaps, be thought by 
many too numerous; but were they less in number, 
it might be supposed that a character was given to 
it, which it does not merit. Many huudrcds of 
such can be found in it, more ridiculous, if possible, 
than the few just given. Let these however suffice, 
and I trust, that they will be enough to convince 
the most incredulous, that the breviary justly de- 
serves the name of " impious^ absurd^ and rndicu- 
loiis^^ and only fit to be laughed at, instead of being 
seriously commented upon, had it not been tamper- 
ing with the life-giving truths of the Gospel. 



MONAStEEIES of ITALY, &C. 85 



CHAPTER Xll. 

Evils attending a monkish life — Novices kept in ignorance of the 
real state of a Monk — Passions, to which Monks are subject — 
Hatred and Anger — Ambition — Tragical story of two Tuscan 
Monks — Method of conveying moral instruction — Narrative of 
an occurrence said to have taken place in the Capuchin convent 
of Frascati — Why the Capuchins wear beards — The Wood of 
the True Cross. 

The year of novitiate is passed in the way I have 
been just describing. The novices are not, however, 
let into all the secrets of the order, till they learn 
them from their own observations, after profession. 
They are not, as I have already stated, allowed to 
have intercourse with the professed monks, until 
they are professed themselves. They therefore can 
form no judgment of the real feelings, by which 
those professed are actuated, or of the degree of 
harmony and friendship existing among them. 
They cannot even suspect, that those persons, who 
are so composed in their manners, and so circum- 
spect in their conduct in the presence of strangers, 
among which the novices are ranked; that those 
very persons could have minds glowing with the 
worst passions to which human nature is subject, and 
which very often get the better of that restraint, 
under which they are obliged by circumstances 
and their station in life to keep them. Hatred, 
envy, anger, ambition, lust, and avarice are the never- 
failing companions of a monkish life. Hatred and 
envy especially, are passions, which more generally 
predominate in the mind of every individual monk. 
He hates his fellow-monk for enjoying more of the 
8 



86 SIX YEARS IN THE 

confidence of the superior than himself, and envies 
him for being chosen to fill some situation, of which 
he himself was ambitious. It has been remarked, 
that these two passions, hatred, and envy, are the 
cause of very great evils in monk-houses, and when 
given way to without restraint, are sometimes fol- 
lowed by tragical events; which rarely arrive at 
publicity, lest the veneration, in which the order is 
held by the people should be lessened, if they be- 
came aware, that those, whom they honour as gods, 
are obnoxious to the same passions, as agitate them- 
selves. The better informed class of people are, 
nevertheless, well aware of the existence of those 
evils in monk-houses, and seldom let an opportunity 
escape of mentioning them in public, when they 
think they can do so without danger to themselves. 
The moiiks, on the other hand, in order to maintain 
their influence, cry up all who are thus bold enough 
to give their opinion on monkery, as enemies of re- 
ligion, and very charitably endeavour to bring them 
under the notice of the secular government, by re- 
presenting them as Carbonari;^ thus making their 

* Carbonari, Anglice, Colliers, is a name given to a society of 
men in Italy, who compassionating the degraded state of their 
country, oppressed by priest-craft, monkery, and the bad govern- 
ment of petty princes, formed themselves into a body, and bound 
themselves by a vow, worthy of ancient Romans, to rescue their 
country from its miserable condition, at the risk of their own lives 
and properties. Truth obliges me to add, that many learned monks 
and secular priests, who esteemed the common good of greater im- 
portance than their private interests, were also members of this 
society. Three young men of noble families and respectable talents 
were beheaded at Rome under Leo XII, in 1826, on being con- 
victed of Carbonarism. This society is not yet extinct, though it is 
strictly watched. We may hope yet to see Italy, through its exertions, 
re.tored to that rank among the nations of Europe, to which it is 
so justly entitled, and which it has lost only through the slave- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 87 

zeal for the Catholic religion a pretext for being re- 
venged on their private enemies, who, it ought to be 
borne in mind, are their enemies only inasmuch as 
they themselves are inimical to the general good of 
society and to the rules of a Christian life. 

A proverb frequently used by the Italians would 
make one suppose, thatcontentions amongmonksare 
better known to the public, than monks themselves 
are aware of. In order.to express a violent deadly 
hatred, they call it " odio all fratesca^'' (hatred after 
the manner of monksor friars.) When this detestable^ 
unchristian-like passion gains possession of a monk's 
mind, he lets slip no opportunity of gratifying it. 
He endeavours to prejudice the superior, and the 
other monks against the unfortunate object of it^ 
either by malignant insinuations, cloaked under a 
zeal for the good of the order, or by calumniating 
him to others, or by openly accusing him of some 
crime either real or pretended. The other monk 
is not in the mean time passive. He, on his part, 
endeavours to injure his enemy also. He entertains 
the same degree of hatred, that is entertained against 
him, and is hindered by no human or divine law to 
endeavour to be revenged; always taking care that 
his desire of vengeance should not get the better of 
his prudence, for he is well aware, that the commis- 
sion of any thing, which would be thought an offence 
against the order, would be only placing himself at 
the mercy of his opponent, and aflbrd him a cause 
for triumph. On this account, he takes especial care 

making terxcts of popery. Italy alone should be enough to exem- 
plify the practically evil effects of that religion, considered only in 
a political light, and setting aside its erroneous doctrines, relating 
to the service due from the creature to the Creator — a thing surely 
of far greater importance, as all must confess, who are fully aware 
of the infinite superiority of things eternal to things temporal. 



88 SIX YEARS IN THE 

never to show any anger in the presence of strangers 
or of those^ who do not belong to the order, nor to 
reveal to any one outside the convent walls, nor 
even to his nearest relations, any thing connected 
with the trouble and vexation proceeding from the 
other's animosity, with which he is harassed. The 
secrets of the order are to be kept at all hazards; 
and if a sense of duty be not sufficient to cause them 
to be kept, punishments are added, for the person 
that reveals them, loses ail hopes of ever arriving at 
any thing above a common friar; and if he be a 
priest, he is suspended from celebrating mass, and 
sent to some desolate convent among the mountains 
where he is kept for the remainder of his life, per- 
secuted by his brethren, and cursing the day he first 
became a monk. The superior, seeing the danger, 
which may be apprehended to accrue to the order 
from contentions and animosities of this nature, 
if they should come to the ears of the public, inter- 
poses his authority and fearing some fatal result, 
separates the combatants by sending them to differ- 
ent convents, and thus brings about a cessation of 
hostilities. It does not always happen, however, 
that monkish hatred is stifled by separating the 
parties. The fire may be buried for some time under 
the ashes, but there always remains sufficient to 
blaze up when more fuel is added: so contending 
monks, though separated for some years, never for- 
get their old animosities, which are always sure to 
break out with renewed vigor, when they again 
come in contact with each other. An example 
which I shall take the liberty to lay before the reader 
in illustration of the truth of this remark, came 
under my own observation, whilst residing in the 
Capuchin convent at Florence. 

Two friars, one a native of Pisa, the other of 
Leghorn, were noted for a strong attachment to each 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 89 

other, which continued without intermission for 
a number of years. They were fellow-novices, 
fellow-students, ordained at the same time, and lived 
the greater part of their life in the same convent. 
It seemed impossible that any thing could happen, 
which might be the cause of breaking through, or 
lessening the afi'ection and love they bore to each 
other. The event however, proved, how false 
were such appearances, and how weak is the tie of 
friendship, when tried by the test of jarring in- 
terests. Both had a desire of becoming superiors, 
and unfortunately both wished to be made superior 
of the same convent. Ambition is a powerful pas- 
sion, when it takes root in any mind, every thing 
being sacrificed for its gratification; but ambition is, 
doubly powerful, when it takes up its abode in the 
mind of a monk, it being the only one, that can be 
given way to, without running the risk of being dis- 
graced. Caesar had never a greater desire to become 
the first man in Rome, than monks have of becoming 
guardians or provincials. All the other passions 
being considered as unlawful to be gratified, this one 
of ambition which is considered as lawful, acts upon 
the mind with a force equal to the whole. Our two 
friends canvassed, and sought to prepossess in their 
favour those upon whom the election depended, 
whilst each to make sure of his own election, and 
forgetful of their ancient friendship, did not scruple 
to calumniate and speak evil of his rival-candidate. 
It happened, however, that neither was elected. 
Then began the recrimination; one accusing the 
other of a want of affection, and the other in turn 
accusing him of defamation, till from being intimate 
friends, they became dire foes, and let no oppor- 
tunity escape by which they might injure each 
other. The contention excited at length the attention 
of the superior, and to prevent evil consequences, 

8* 



90 SIX YEARS IN THE 

they were separated, by being sent to different 
convents. Some years passed away after their 
separation, and it was supposed that time had 
healed the wonnd, which ambition had given 
their mutual friendship, when they met together 
again in Florence. Their enmity then broke out 
anew, and in a moment of ungovernable fury, one 
drew a knife and stabbed the other; and then sup- 
posing he had killed him, flew to the cloister, where 
there was a deep well, or reservoir of water, into 
which he plunged.* His lifeless body was drawn out 
a few hours afterwards.' He that was stabbed, sur- 
vived the wound, but died soon after of a broken 
heart; persecuted by the other friars for having been 
the cause of the other's destroying himself. It was 
given out in the convent, that the unfortunate self- 
murderer was deranged, when he committed the 
rash deed, and therefore his body was buried with 
the accustomed honors. Every monk was com- 
manded under pain of disobedience never to speak 
on the subject, nor even to think upon it, if possible. 
Thus ended this monkish strife, and so fatally, that 
under an able hand it would make a good subject 
for a tragedy. 

The novices have no suspicion, that such scenes as 
these related can possibly find a place among men, who 
seem exempt, judging from outward appearances, 
from the ordinary frailties of human nature. They 
are, nevertheless, admonished not to give way to 
anger or hatred; and the admonition, in order to 
make a more lasting impression, is conveyed by 

* In the neighbourhood of Florence, there is a great scarcity of 
water. Reservoirs are prepared in every palace and convent to save 
the rain-vrater, vrhich is done by means of pipes fitted to the eaves 
of the roofs, w^hich convey the water into the reservoirs. These are 
made very deep, in order to hold sufficient for summer use. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 91 

•some example, which having its foundation in truth 
is wound up by calling in the agency of departed 
spirits — the usual mode of imparting moral instruc- 
tion,<practised by monks. I recollect one of those ex 
amples, and in order to give the reader some idea of 
monkish instruction, I shall relate it here. 

In the convent of the Capuchins at Frascati, there 
is a l.irge room on the- ground-floor, which is now 
used as a lumber-room for old chairs, tables, images, 
pictures, angels, and all the other paraphernalia, and 
apparatuswhich areused for decorainga popish church 
on solemn occasions. A stranger upon seeing the 
confused medley of paste-board saints, half-daubed 
pictures, and stucco-im.ages, with which this room 
is thronged, would not immediately be able to decide 
w^hat use they could possibly be converted to, and 
w^ould, after some reflection, come to the conclusion 
that they belonged to the manager of some theatre, 
or that they area collection of idols collected by some 
merchant.for the East India market. In the middle 
of the room, there is a circular mark of about four 
feet ill diameter, which from its being tw^o or three 
inches below the level of the floor, is easily taken 
notice of. The tradition connected with this spot 
forms the example by which novices are admonished 
to take care, that hatred never become master of their 
better feelings. This room was the refectory, 
and continued to be used as such for many years 
after the building of the convent. The reason why 
it is no longer used for this purpose is stated to be 
the following. There lived in the convent, some 
hundred years ago, two monks who entertained a 
deadly hatred for each other. This hatred con- 
tinued without any intermission, until one of them 
was on the point of being called away from this 
world. On his death bed, he expressed a desire to 
be reconciled to his enemy, and begged the superior 



92 SIX YEARS IN THE 

to call him to his room for that purpose. The other 
at first refused to go, but the commands of the su- 
perior united to his representations at last prevailed. 
He approached his dying enemy, and granted him ap- 
parently his forgiveness, and was seemingly recon- 
ciled to him; but whilst in the act of leaving the 
room, he whispered to one of the other monks, that 
'' because he was dying now, he sought his pardon, 
whereas whilst in health, he had let slip no oppor- 
tunity to do him injury," wMiich words being over- 
heard by the dying man, caused him to go into so 
great a rage, that he expired whilst endeavouring to 
utter curses and maledictions against his inveterate 
enemy. Some days after his death, as the monks 
were assembled to dinner in the refectorj', the con- 
versation turned upon the unhappy death of their 
defunct brother. One represented to the superior 
the necessity of having a number of masses cele- 
brated for the repose of his soul, whilst another ar- 
gued, that there was no use in throwing aw^ay masses 
on one, who, in all probability, was howling in the 
regions of the damned. The conversation wascarried 
on in this way for some time, when lo! the subject 
of it himself made his appearance to the astonished 
and trembling monks, encompassed with flames of 
fire, and heavily laden with fiery chains. Address- 
ing the superior, he said " that he w^as confined in 
the regions of the wicked for all eternity, on account 
of his dying in anger with his brother." Then 
turning tow^ards his enemy, who stood pale and 
trembling in his presence, he roared out wnth a 
voice of thunder, mixed with a hellish laugh, 
" thou w^retch! thou, who hast been the cause of 
my damnation, prepare thyself to accompany me, 
for that I might bring thee with me, have 1 obtained 
permission to leave my place of torment for a few 
moments. Come, then, and suffer with me, as the 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 93 

pleasure of seeing thee suffer, is the only one I can 
have for all eternity.'^ Thus saying, he took hold 
of him by the beard,* and dragged him into the 
middle of the refectory, where the ground opening 
under them, both disappeared, leaving the other 
monks almost dead with fear and astonishment, and 
nearly suffocated from the stench with which the re- 
fectory was filled. The opening left after their 
descent could not be filled up, although many horses 
were employed for some days in bringing rubbish 
to throw into it; but in vain, till a part of the true 
cross, preserved in the cathedral church of Frascati, 
was brought to the convent, accompanied by the 
bishop and clergy in procession, and singing the 
litany of the Blessed Virgin, which being held over 
the vacuum the earth closed of its own accord with 
the same celerity it had before opened. A new re- 
fectory was then built in another part of the convent, 
and the old one converted into a lumber room, as 
has been already related. 

The foregoing occurrence, just as I have related 
it, is registered in the convent books, and deposited 
in the archives of the order, whence it has been 
drawn forth to serve as an example to future monks 



* The Capuchins wear beards in imitation of their founder, St. 
Francis, who is represented with a long carroty beard in pictures 
of him painted by order of the Capuchins. The Observants, on the 
contrary, another branch of the Franciscans, wear no beards, 
and therefore paint the same saint without any. This difference 
has been the cause of great disturbance, between these two branches 
of the order. Was it not rather in imitation of the ancient Magi, that 
the Capuchins determined upon wearing their beards? Very pro- 
bably it was; for we see from the history of all ages, that impostors 
are fond of having some distinctive mark, either in dress or in the 
habit of the body, by which they may attract the notice of the 
dupes upon whom they design to practice their impositions. 



94 SIX YEARS IN THE 

of the evil consequences attending ano;er and hatred. 
The reader may make his own reflections upon it, 
and believe it, or not, as he may feel inclined. The 
fundamental parts are probably true, whilst the mar- 
vellous had been added to attract o;reater devotion 
towards the wood of the true cross, and to prove 
by an alleged miracle the great respect and adora- 
tion, which should be paid to that so called holy 
relic — But of this more will be said under the head 
of "relics.^^ 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Termination of Novitiate — Votes of the other monks required be- 
fore the Novice can be admitted to Profession — Ceremonies used 
at the Profession of a Monk — The monastic Vows — Good^and bad 
monks — Story of a bad monk — Monkish Persecutions — The bad 
monk's flight from Turin — How treated by the General at 
Rome — His Secularization — Expenses incurred before he could 
obtain it — The bad monk turned into a zealous preacher of the 
Gospel — Classification of Monks. 

The year of novitiate being expired, the novice is 
asked by the superior, if he be desirous of profes- 
sion, that is, if he wish to take the solemn vows of 
the order. The votes of the other friars are taken 
in the mean time, in private, and if the novice have 
a majority of them in his favor, it is optional with 
him to profess or not. If, on the other hand, he 
have not the majority of votes, he is dismissed with- 
out profession. This may also be the reason, that 
novices are kept separate from the other monks, dur- 
ing the year of novitiate, because it is feared, that 
upon leaving the order, either at their own desire, 



MONASTEPaES OF ITALY, &C. 95 

because unwilling to make their profession; or being 
expelled, and therefore not allowed to make it; they 
might be induced if they had it in their power, to 
make known to the world the lives, and practices of 
monks, as they really are — not as they are repre- 
sented; and thereby injure the order and lessen it in 
the opinion of the public. They are, therefore, 
strictly confined to their own separate part of the 
convent, till after their profession, because, then, and 
not before, the order has power over them,* and can 
punish them, and take measures to prevent their 
tattling the secrets of the order, if so they should be 
inclined. Profession delivers the monk in every 
Roman Catholic country to the entire management 
of his Superior. There is no other tribunal to ap- 
peal to, if he be oppressed: the superior can impri- 
son, and do what he pleases with him for the remain- 
der of his life. 

Very few voluntarily refuse profession, even 
though they might not like the life of a monk; being 
afraid of incurring the indignation of their families, 
or of being ridiculed by their acquaintances. Some 
without a grain of vocation are most desirous of it, 
because they well know, that they shall enjoy more 
liberty then, than when they were siniple novices. 
Many are obliged to return to their secular pursuits, 
not having had — fortunately enough for themselves — 
the majority of the votes in their favor. If, how- 
ever, they should wish to remain for another year, 
in the capacity of simple novices, they are some- 
times allowed to do so; and at the expiration of that 
time, they are solemnly professed, if they have the 
majority of votes. Cases of this kind, however, sel- 
dom occur. As for rnyself, I was so unfortunate, 
(for misfortune it certainly was, though 1 did not 
think so, at the time,) as to have the votes of nearly 
the whole community in my favour, and therefore 



96 SIX YEARS IN THE 

on answering in the affirmative to the Superior's 
question of" whether I w^as desirous of making a sol- 
emn profession?'^ there was nothing to prevent me 
from binding myself for ever to a state of life and to 
the practice of a religion, which on closer and fuller ex- 
amination I was led to consider as sinful and errone- 
ous. I had not, when I gave my assent to be pro- 
fessed, any cause to dislike the kind of life I had 
embraced, nor the religion I was on the point of be- 
coming so closely connected with. My idea of a 
monkish life was formed from what I had seen dur- 
ing the time 1 had remained a novice, and being by 
nature of a retired disposition, such a manner of-life 
was pleasing to me. I little suspected at that time, 
that I had more to learn than 1 was aware of, in or- 
der to become a good monk; that is — a something 
between a Christian and an idolater, as shall be fully 
proved in another place. 

As for the Roman Catholic religion in itself I 
could not possibly have any dislike to it at that 
time, for, first, I did not understand it, and therefore 
could not judge whether it were true or false; again, 
it w^as the religion in which I was educated ; and with 
which were blended my fondest and earliest recol- 
lections; and it is well known, that the prejudices of 
education and of early habits are not worn away in 
an instant. Besides, I had never, though born in a 
protestant country, seen Christianity under any 
other aspect, than as she appears in the church of" 
Rome. I had no friend to direct me to " search the 
scriptures," for light, or to give me a knowledge of 
vital godliness. My ideas were popish, my man- 
ners were popish, my whole soul and body, in fine, 
were entirely at the pope's service, nor would I 
have thought it too much, so great was my zeal for po- 
pery at that time, to lay down my life in defence of 
his authority. So far, therefore, from doubting of 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 97 

the truth of any of the absurd doctrines of Roman- 
ism, I considered all and every one of them, with- 
out any farther examination, as the genuine dictates 
of the Holy Spirit, and would as soon be led into the 
belief of my own non-existence ^ as to that of the 
pope^sestablishinganjerroneous doctrine for an article 
of the Christian faith. During the year of my novi- 
tiate, however, I sometimes was tempted to consider 
the stories of the breviary as rather insulting to hu- 
man reason, and to think that the marvellous tales, 
under which my master-novice conveyed his instruc- 
tions were a little out of the way of common sense; 
but all such thoughts I resisted as temptations of the 
devil, and therefore mortal sins, if not fought against. 
I always, in my private confessions to the superior, 
accused myself of such doubts as these, and he, to 
be sure, kiiew how to work on my mind already 
weakened by superstition, so as to bring it entirely 
under his own control; and even to make me wish, 
that the things proposed to my belief were ten times 
more incredible, that I might have the more merit 
in believing them. I was divested altogether of the 
faculty of judging and thinking for myself, and so 
passive was the submission 1 made of myself into 
the hands of others, that, I verily believe, they might 
have persuaded me with the same degree of ease, to 
offer incense at the shrine of an Egyptian crocodile, 
as to pour forth my •dve Marias before the image 
of a Madonna — as absurd, though not altogether so 
revolting a way of paying homage to the Supreme 
Being. It may then be supposed, that 1 was in no 
state of mind to withhold my consent from what I 
was expected to do at the expiration of the yearns 
novitiate; and when asked by the Superior, I was 
greatly rejoiced, and immediately consented to bind 
myself by a solemn vow to adhere till death to the 
profession of a monk. 
9 



98 SIX YEARS IN THE 

The ceremonies used at the profession of a novice 
are nearly similar to those practised at his taking the 
habit. The Superior, as usual, is the principal aclor. 
He celebrates the mass and trives the communion to 
the novice before he pronounces his vows. After the 
mass is finished, he ascends the steps of the altar, 
where sitting in a chair of state, set apart designed- 
ly for ecclesiastical ceremonies, he receives the hands 
of the novice within his own, whilst the latter in a 
loud voice pronounces distinctly the following vow: 

" lo, Fra N , faccio voto e promeito al Dio Onni- 

potente, alia Beata Maria sempre Vergine, ai Beati 
Apostoli Pietro e Paulo, al nostro Beato Padre 
Francesco, a tutti li santi del cielo ed a te, Padre, tutto 
il tempo della vita mia osservare la regola dei Frati 
Minori, dal Signor Onorio Papa confermata, vivendo 
in ubbedienza, senza proprio, ed in castita. (I, 
Brother N , make a vow, and promise to Al- 
mighty God; to the blessed Mary ever Virgin, to 
the Blessed Apostles Peter, and Paul, to our Blessed 
Father, Francis; to all the Saints of Heaven, and to 
thee, O Father, to observe, during my whole life, 
the rule of the Minor-friars, by our Lord Pope Ho- 
norius confirmed; and to live in obedience, m pover- 
ty^ and in chastity, ) The superior then says, still 
keeping the novice's hands enclosed in his own:' 
Ed io, da parte di Dio, se queste case osserverai, ti 
prometto la vita eterna.'' (And I, on the part of 
God, promise thee eternal life, if thou wilt keep 
these promises.) The other monks answer " Amen.'' 
The new-professed after this, receives the kiss of 
peace from his brethren, whilst the choir is chanting 
the psalm " Ecce quam bonum, et quam jucundum, 
habitare, fratres, in unum." (How good and plea- 
sant it is, brethren, to live together.) The day of 
profession, like that of taking the habit, is observed 
as a festival by the monks; and many friends being 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 99 

invited to a sumptuous entertainment, it passes over 
in the same way as the latter, amidst mirth and jol- 
lity, their usual method of showing forth gladness 
on extraordinary occasions; though it may be pre- 
sumed, that the sight of a good dinner has as much 
tendency, perhaps moi^e, to exci4:e their mirth, as 
the addition of a new member to their community. 
The day of profession is an era in the life of a 
monk from which he ma}' date either the happiness 
or misery of his future life; — understanding for the 
moment happiness and misery in the sense of those, 
whD place it in the enjoyment or non-enjoyment of 
the things of this world. If he be a good monk; 
that is, if he forget all the duties, which he owes to 
society; if he exert all his powers and talents to 
promote one great object — the good of the order; 
if, in order to more speedily arrive at this end, he 
endeavour, pro virili, to brutalize the minds of the 
people by teaching them the fables and other mon- 
strous absurdities, invented by Rome to maintain 
her sway over them, if he do all these things, he 
may be sure of being esteemed a good and faithful 
monk, and may reasonably expect to lead a happy 
life, as far as worldly honors and ecclesiastical dig- 
nities can make it so. If, on the other hand, he be 
troubled with a rather delicate conscience; that is, 
if he dare examine for himself, whether the things 
he is commanded to do for the good of the order be 
strictly just; or if, on becoming better acquainted 
with it, he refuse to exert himself to the utmost for 
its advantage, if in his sermons he manifest a greater 
zeal for bringing sinners to repentance, than in mak- 
ing panegyrics on saints; if he preach Christ and 
Him crucified as the sinner's hope, instead of di- 
recting him to the intercession of the Madonna, St. 
Francis, or of some other saint; if, in fine, he act in 
this guise, it is more than probable, nay, it is an ab- 



100 SIX YEARS IN THE 



solute certainty, that his life will be rendered mise- 
rable: he will be treated as a heretic, as one unfaith- 
ful to his vows, and as one, who considers the good 
of the order of no consequence and therefore neces- 
sarily a bad monk. He will be persecuted by his 
fellow monks, his actions and words will be strictly 
watched, in order to find a pretext for suspending 
him from his clerical functions: this pretext, because 
desired, will be soon found, and then he is trans- 
ported from convent to convent, or exiled to some 
remote part of the province, where he will be con- 
fined to the bounds of the cloister, or, at least, to 
the garden, detested by all and esteemed by none. 
His life will thus pass away between vexations and 
oppressions, and whilst cursing his unfortunate con- 
dition, he will date his misery from the day he first 
forfeited his liberty at the foot of the altar, when 
making a solemn vow^ to observe things, which, he 
is convinced by farther examination, are in them- 
selves sinful, because contrary to the precepts of the 
Gospel, and at variance with the institutes by which 
society is kept together. 

The foregoing is a true picture drawn from expe- 
rience, of the life of a good and bad monk. Here- 
tics^ I fear, will regard the latter — God help their 
judgment! — as more deserving the epithet of good 
than the former. Concedo, be it granted, but then 
^'good^^ should not be coupled with the substantive 
^'inonk^^^ for, as metaphysicians say '^omne ens est 
bonum quoad 5e;" (every being is good as to itself.) 
so also, the latter may be good ''quoad hominem^^ 
but bad, very bad ''quoad ens^^^ that is, as to his 
profession of a monk. But, metaphysical reason- 
ing apart, it is evident, that a good monk means one 
of the genus "Aomo,'^ who is half-Christian and 
whole-idolater; — (excuse the bull,) who idolizes his 
order and fixes all his hopes of salvation in the me- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALYj &C. 101 

rits to be acquired by benefiting it; who stops at 
nothing lo attain that end; and who, if Christ and 
his religion should at any time have a place in his 
thoughts, regards them as things of secondary con- 
sideration, and to be placed next in rank, or at far- 
thest on a par with Francis and his rule. "* A bad 

* The above will, perhaps, be considered by many as amplification ; 
thinking- it impossible, that any body of men, who go under the 
name of Christians, could, whatever be the errors of their doctrines, 
so far forget themselves as to rank Christ and his Gospel with their 
own inventions. But let those, who argue thus, examine the page 
of history, where they will find recorded the diabolical, enthusias- 
tic frenzy of the Franciscans of the fourteenth Century, who im- 
piously maintained, that the founder of their order was a second 
Christ, in all respects similar to the first; and that their institu- 
tions and discipline were the true Gospel of Jesus. History also 
informs us, that a Franciscan monk of the name of Albizi — a na- 
tive of Pisa — published a book in 1363, — and with the applause and 
permission of his order too, remember^ — whereby he compares saint 
Francis, that madman and impostor, with Jesus Christ — the Lord 
and giver of life; and that farrago of absurdities — the rule of St. 
Francis, with the Christian's treasure — the Holy Gospels them- 
selves 1 1 — But why should we make so great a wonder of simple 
theories, when we are so indifferent to the practice of them, placed 
before our eyes daily? Do v/e not see Christ and his atonement 
continually and every hour postponed to human inventions, even 
in this very country, v/here the Gospel is said to triumph? To 
what else do all the anti-scriptui al tenets of popery tend, than to 
draw off the attention of Christians from the all-sufficient atone- 
ment of Christ, in order to fix it upon something else — to fix it 
upon the adoration of the creature, instead of the Creator — by 
which the inventors of such tenets are benefitted, though at the 
expense of the souls of those committed to their charge? Yet 
people, who would be startled at the simple theory, pass over, as 
trifles, practices, hideous practices of this nature; people pass them 
over as things too common to be any longer wondered at, or even 
worthy of remark; and charitably doubt, whether such abuses be 
not rather the effects of undesigned corruption, than of any fixed 
9* 



102 SIX YEARS IN THE 

monk, on the other hand — and would to God, there 
were more of such monks — is he, who not being 
wholly dead to all sense of religion, wishes to act 
conscientiously towards God and towards his fellow- 
men, leaving to others the office of benefittnTg the 
order; especially w^hen that cannot be done without 
trampling under foot the duties he owes to God and 
to society. He considers his obligations to the lat- 
ter of far greater moment than those he is under to 
his order, and therefore endeavours to fulfil them, 
though at the same time he is injuring the interests 
of the former; for the particular interest of his or- 
der seldom or never can be promoted but at the ex- 
pense and subversion of society and of religion. 
Who then would hesitate to choose between serving 
God, by executing His commands, relative to the 
duties due to Himself and to His other creatures; 
and serving Mammon, by providing for the interests 
of Mammon. This hesitation, however, in choice 
is made by the good monk; or rather the service of 
Mammon is chosen without any hesitation, whilst 
the bad monk chooses the service of his Creator, and 
therefore is characterized by the other with the epi- 
thet of "bad,^' and unfaithful to his vows. 

The story of a young man, who was for many 
years the victim of monkish persecutions, and with 
whom I had a short acquaintance before his escape 
from the iron grasp of monachism, has in it some- 
thing so appropriate to the present subject, that I 
cannot refrain from relating it. He was a native of 
Chambery, the capital of Savoy. At the age of 
sixteen, he crossed the Alps and went to Turin, 
where he embraced the monastic life under the rule 
of St. Francis. He passed through the year of pro- 
theory. — Indeed, it is to be feared, that charity is but too often an- 
other name for indifference for the truth, as it is in Jesus. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 103 

bation without having had any difficulty thrown in 
his way, by which he could be deterred from con- 
tinuing in that state, and at the expiration of the 
accustomed time, he was solemnly professed. He 
then began the study of philosophy, and although 
the course of metaphysics — that part of philoso- 
phy, most studied by the monks, because the most 
incomprehensible — which he was obliged to read, is 
carefully adapted to substantiate the doctrines of the 
Romish church; he found, notwithstanding, his be- 
lief, not only in that church, but also in Christianity 
itself, weakened by making use of his reasoning 
powers. It is true, he knew Christianity only un- 
der the corrupt form under which it appears in the 
church of Rome: he was wholly ignorant of Bible- 
Christianity, and therefore more worthy of excuse 
on that account; especially when he had no one to 
direct him to the fountain of life. The poison of 
iniidelity stole imperceptibly over his mind, and he 
had scarcely finished his course of philosophy be- 
fore he found himself a confirmed sceptic. He grew 
luke warm in his belief of the ridiculous doctrines 
of Romanism, and however his station in life obliged 
him to conceal it, he secretly laughed at the foolish 
^inventions of that church. The study of popish 
theology — and indeed it deserves the name of po- 
pish rather than that of Christian; only directed his 
unbelief into another channel — for it led him to see, 
though indistinctly, that there was some foundation 
for Christianity, but that it was corrupted by those, 
who had the government of Christ's church in their 
hands. This he learned, partly from the objections 
made to the innovations of the church of Rome by 
Scriptural Christians, and which are set down in the 
School Theology in order to be answered; and part- 
ly from the detached portions of Scripture, which 
are scattered up and down in the breviary. 



104 SIX YEARS IN THE 

He now began to pant after the liberty of wor- 
shipping God according to the dictates of his con- 
science, but alas! he w^as bound and in the chains of 
monastic slavery, which were more tolerable to him, 
whilst he was an infidel, than now, when he saw the 
truth and could not embrace it. He was ordained 
in the mean time, and sent to preach some time af- 
ter, to a town on the Alps, called Susa. Here he 
endeavoured to preach Christ and Him crucified to 
the people, instead of enforcing devotion to the Ma- 
donna. On being requested by the parish priest to 
preach a panegyric in honour of the patron saint of 
the town, he could not refuse; but acquitted him- 
self in so awkward a manner, and in so very few 
words, chano-ino; his discourse to his favourite theme 
of redemption through Christ, that he incurred the 
displeasure of the priest, who boldly accused him 
of heresy. The same priest immediately wrote to 
his Superior in Turin, requesting, that he might be 
removed; and giving his reasons for the request. 
He was accordingly recalled. Upon his arrival at 
Turin, he was summoned before a chapter of his or- 
der, to give an account of his conduct. He endea- 
voured 10 exculpate himself as well as he could; 
simply staling the facts asthey were. When asked, 
why he had not preached the panegyric, as he was 
requested to do bj^ tlie parish priest; he replied, 
that he was unacquainted with the life of the patron- 
saint, and therefore had no m.aterials wherewith to 
compose one; and that his conscience would liot 
permit him to draw from his own imagination — the 
general plan adopted by those, who preach panegy- 
rics on saints. This excuse was deemed insufficient, 
and he was therefore formally suspended from the 
office of preaching, as being a peison suspected of 
unsound doctrines. 

Now began his life of misery. Every action every 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 105 

word of his was strictly watched. He was sent from 
convent to convent, through almost every part of the 
province and could find no place, wherein he could 
get a moment's repose from the persecutions of his 
brethren.' He was looked upon by all as one, who 
was a disgrace to their order, and who was unwilling 
to labour for its advantages. At length tired out and 
harassed from such unrelenting persecutions, he de- 
termined upon escaping to Rome, in order to lay his 
case before the General of the order. If he stirred 
one step without a written leave from his local su- 
perior, he would be considered by the rules of the 
order an apostate; and punished as such accord- 
ingly. He, nevertheless, although well aware of the 
existence of such a law, chose rather to run the risk 
than be any longer exposed to the unremitting per- 
secution of his adversaries. Upon his arrival at 
Rome, he was forthwith imprisoned by order of 
the General; the superior at Turin having written 
before him for that purpose, stating his suspicions, 
that he was not a person of sound Roman Catholic 
doctrines. He was now suspended from celebrating 
mass, and kept a close prisoner for three months, 
'whilst in the mean time, his family was spending 
money in petitioning the pope to have his case in- 
vestigated. When these petitions on the part of his 
friends came to the knowledge of the General, 
they only served to increase the rigor, with which 
the unfortunateyoung man was treated; for nothingis 
thought so criminal in a monk as to appeal to another 
tribunal from that of his own order. Being at last 
through the interest of a Cardinal, who had a friend- 
ship for his family, permitted to plead his own cause; 
he ably and forcibly exposed to the ecclesiastical 
court, the wrongs and injuries, which had been done 
him, and the absolute necessity he was under of 
leaving Turin, even at the hazard of being thought 



106 SIX YEARS IN THE 

an apostate; because he could no longer bear with 
the unchristian treatment, and violent persecutions^ 
with which he was pursued by his brother-monks. 
He concluded his address by entreating the court 
for permission to supplicate the pope for the pur- 
pose of obtaining a dispensation from his vows, and 
and of being permitted to leave the order, altogether; 
afterhavingobtainedlettersofsecularization* from his 
Holiness. His request was granted, though not vvith- 
^ out experiencing some difficulty, and after his being 
kept three months longer in prison; (in all six 
months,) and after his friends had spent more than 
eight hundred Roman Scudi (about 850 American 
Dollars) in petitioning the papal court. He retired 
after his release to his native town of Chamber^^^ 
whence, as 1 afterwards heard, he passed into Swit- 
zerland, where he now remains, a minister of the 
reformed church, and a faithful preacher of the 
Gospel. The latter part of his story, I have learned 
sometime since from an Irish gentleman who spent 
some years in Switzerland, and who was acquainted 
with him there. He describes him as a zealous and 
pious Christian, and as one who is a living example 
of the power of divine grace and of the various 
means used by God to bring his own to a closer 
union with Himself. 

The foregoing story may give the reader some 
idea of the hardship and misery, to which a monk 

* Secularization means a brief granted by the pope to a monk, 
whereby he is permitted to leave his order, and live as a secular 
priest under the obedience of a bishop. This is with great diffi- 
culty obtained, and is always attended with great expense; money 
being necessary to bribe the different officers, who surround the 
papal throne, and who consider themselves entitled to a share of 
the plunder with which his holiness fills his coffers. The income 
derived by the court of Rome from the sale of briefs, bulls, and 
dispensations is enormous. — But of this, more in another place* 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 107 

reduces himself who wishes to do his duty to 
wards God, and towards his fellow-men. If an en- 
lightened mind, assisted by the divine influence, 
should show him the errors of the religion, of which 
he is a member, and minister; and if his conscience 
should afterwards prevent him from being subservi- 
ent to the propagation of error, he may expect to 
be treated as rigourously, and suffer the same hard- 
ships, as the subject of the foregoing narrative. 
Should he refuse to fulfil the wishes of the superior, 
and be backward in working for the good of the 
order, because he regards the means of benefiting it 
as injurious to his neighbour, and offensive to God; 
he is then persecuted, imprisoned and caluminated; 
he obtains the name of a bad monk, and is set down 
by his fellow-monks, as one, w^ho had broken his 
vows, and who dares to set up his own judgment, in 
opposition to the will of those, to whom he had pro- 
mised implicit obedience when he made his solemn 
profession at the foot of the altar. Very few, it 
must be confessed, are of this description. Some, 
perhaps, who see the errors in which they live, are 
careless in correcting them, and do not wish to bring 
themselves into difficulties. Some there are who see 
the errors of their ways, also, but are very far from 
believing in Christianity under any form; they there- 
fore conform themselves outwardly to the state of a 
monk, and find themselves the gainers by it; for 
from this class the superiors are chosen. Others again 
whom we shall distinguish by the name of the hriite 
creation^ of monkery, can be found, who are too 
ignorant to discover error, and therefore swallow 
every doctrine, which is proposed to their belief, 
with the greatest avidity. These obey their supe- 
riors in every thing, and stop at nothing, be 
it ever so contrary to common honesty; when 
their commands and the good of the order push 



108 SIX YEARS IN THE 

them on. From this class, the saints are manu- 
factured. The fourth class is composed of those, 
whom we have already distinguished by the name of 
" badynonks^^ and whose description has been given 
more fully in the beginning of this chapter. Those 
who see their errors, but are cold in correcting them, 
would probably make good Christians in a free coun- 
try, where they might have the liberty of choosing 
for themselves; but whilst they live under papal 
bondage, there is but little hope of their ever emerg- 
ing from the sink of indifference. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Convents of study — The Employment, in which those monks who 
are void of talents arc engaged — Monastic studies — Logic — Me- 
taphysics — Its use in supporting Popish doctrines — Dogmatic 
Theology — Its evil tendency — Mutilation of Scripture — Purgato- 
ry — Popish Theologians — Polemical divinity — Character of Po- 
pish Polemics — How they excuse themselves — Moral Theolo- 
gy — Auricular confession — Its instrumentality in the support of 
Priest-craft. 

The young monk is immediately sent away after 
profession, from the convent, in which he passed his 
novitiate, or year of probation, and placed in another, 
which is called a convent of study — in Italian " con- 
vent© di studio.'^ There are in each province 



* 



* It should have been before remarked, that, according to monk- 
ish Geography a province is that portion of a country, which is 
under the control, as to monastic affairs, of a certain Superior, 
called " Provincial.^^ Every order has its own provincial, and 
therefore there are as many provincials as orders in a province. The 
pope's dominions in Italy comprise four monastic provinces. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 109 

many convents of this kind, situated for the most 
part in fertile^ and rich sections of the country. 
There are also various classes of convents for study. 
One convent is fitted up for the study of Philosophy; 
another for that of Dogmatic Theology, another 
again for the study of Moral Theology, These clas- 
ses are again subdivided into others: some are set 
apart for the education of those young monks, who 
were remarked during the year of probation, to be 
possessed of talents superior to their fellow-novices; 
some others are chosen for those, who, though not 
having very brilliant talents, are, nevertheless, like- 
ly to be of advantage to the order, as executioners 
of the plans laid down by those, who are gifted with 
superior capacity. There are also other convents, 
in which the herd of monks; i. e— -those we have 
distinguished by tlie appellation of ^^ the brute crea- 
tion of monkery"- — are huddled together. These 
monks are scarcely above the level of brutes in their 
intellectual powers, and are ciuefly employed — for 
they are unfit for any thing else — in mumbling over 
offices, and in repeating Ave Marias before the 
image of a Madonna. They are, however, whilst 
young, sent to a separate convent, where they are 
taught to write their own language grammatically, 
though but few have talents enough to succeed even 
in that — and where they are taught to acquire a 
smattering of Latin, by translating into barbarous 
Italian the council of Trent, the general school book 
of this class, because classical Latin is too difficult 
for them. They are then, after being a little hu- 
manised by instruction, scattered through the other 
convents of the province, in order to serve as a 
cloak for the conduct of those of their brethren, 
whose talents and understanding do not allow them 
to be so beastly devout. These are held in great es- 
teem by the common people, for they have always 
10 



110 SIX YEARS IN THE 

in readiness some marvellous tale, or some miracle 
to relate to them, by which they increase their love 
and respect tor the order. After death a great many 
of them are enrolled in the catalogue of saints— thus 
verifying the proverb " ignorance is the mother of 
devotion'^ by deifying after death men, who, whilst 
living, were no^ a hair's breadth above their fellow- 
creatures, the hriites^ in intellectual capacity. 

As for myself, I was sent after profession to Rome, 
and placed under the tuition of a professor, who 
was esteemed the most learned man of the order, at 
that time. And here it will not be thought, I hope, 
foreign to the present subject, if I give a succinct 
account of monastic studies, and of the manner in 
which such studies are conducted. I give it the 
more willingly; because it may be of use todoaway 
with the erroneous notions of some, who are loud iiji 
their praises of the great learning and talents, which 
they imagine — and it is pure imagination — can be 
found within the walls of a convent. The account 
is draw'n from my own experience, and from obser- 
vations made during the time I remained in the mo- 
nastic Slate. 

Logic is the first branch of knowledge to which 
a monk aj)plies himself, on commencing his prepara- 
tions for fulfilling the duties which are afterwards 
to devolve upon him in the course of his clerical ca- 
reer. On this, indeed, his future progress in the other 
studies cliiefly depends, for they are all carried on 
in the old, scholastic, syllogistical method. He is 
supposed to have a perfect knowledge of the Latin 
classics before entering the order, though such a 
supposition does not always correspond with truth. 
Many pass through the examination, usually re- 
quired before being received into the order, morefby 
chance, and the partiality of the examiners, than on 
account of any perfect knowledge they possess of 
the things, in which they are examined. Those 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. Ill 

however, who are smuggled uito the order in this 
way, usually take their place among the herd I have 
before described. The treatise on Logic, which is 
used in monkish schools, is always in Latin. It is 
generally the composition of some monk, and is de- 
livered in a clear, methodical style, and very easy 
to be understood — even by men of moderate capaci- 
ties. The part, which is most dwelt upon, is that, 
wherein rules are laid down for arguing syllogisti- 
cally. Indeed the whole treatise is manifestly de- 
signed as a key, with which to open the abstruse, 
and metaphysical reasoning of the School-men, Tho- 
mas Aquinas, Duns Scotus, Bonaventure, and such 
like. Besides the simple rules, the students are 
also taught the best manner of putting them in prac- 
tice, by holding frequent disputations among them- 
selves; and he is thought the best logician, who can 
bring his opponent to give assent to a proposition 
manifestly erroneous, or who can satisfactorily prove 
that two contradictory propositions can be both true 
at one and the same time. 

After having spent a considerable time and much 
labor in becoming master of the various kinds of 
arguments, and in reducing them to practice by con- 
tinual exercise among themselves; the next thing, 
to which their attention is directed, is the study of 
metaphysics. In this also much time is spent, for 
metaphysics is a species of knowledge held in great 
repute. among monks, and it requires a long time, 
and great application to get even a partial knowledge 
of the subtilties, the distinctions, the sub-distinc- 
tions, and divisions, which are almost innumerable 
in this abstruse science, rendered still more abstruse 
by the obscurity in which it is enveloped by ihe 
imaginations — any thing bat clear — of those who 
wrote upon it. Treatises and volumes are written 
upon things, which, when fully discussed, leave the 



112 SIX YEARS IN THE 

reader no wiser tli^n before; nor would it be of any 
importance either to religion or society, whether the 
same things were ever thought upon, or not, or 
whether they should be one way rather than in an- 
other. Thus, a folio volume, yes, a huge folio! has 
been written by some idle monk, who had nothing 
else to do, upon the questions " whether nothing was 
created?" or " uhether God, omnipotent as he is, 
eould,wMthall his unlimited power create nothing?'^ 
Nor ought it to be a subject for wonder, that this 
science is held in so great estimation by monks, 
whereas the dogmas, and tenets of their religion es- 
pecially those that have no scriptural arguments in 
their favor, are in a great measure propped by argu- 
ments drawn from it, and rendered thereby as incom- 
prehensible as a fear of detection could desire them. 
Demonology, or the treatise on demons whether 
good or bad, is designedly fitted up for the purpose 
of supporting the inodern doctrine of purgatory — 
I call it modern, as not being either known or thought 
upon, in the first ages of the church. The difierent 
parts, also, into which metaphysics is divided, as 
Ontology J Psychology^ Demonology^ and the other 
ologies^ are the whet-stones, on which their minds 
are sharpened to defend, and even to invent new 
doctrines, and dogmas, which are afterwards held up 
as articles of faith to a benighted people. 

The attention bestowed by them upon Physics is 
very limited, scarcely passing the bare knowledge of 
the first properties of bodies. Astronomy is studied 
hardly at all, and the mathematics though studied, 
are yet passed over in so superficial a manner, that 
a child at one of the comm.on schools in America, 
would be able to puzzle many a professor of them 
whilst endeavouring to demonstrate a proposition of 
Euclid. The reason why geometry is so little stu- 
died probably may be^ because they are unwilling 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 113 

to accustom the minds of the monks to mathemati- 
cal demonstrations, lest they should look for the 
same on other suhjects. 

The foregoing studies are considered but a pre- 
lude to the study of dogmatical theology. To this 
point, all others tend, and to acquire a perfect knowl- 
edge of this, monks spare neither time nor labor. 
It being that which properly belongs to their pro- 
fession, they endeavour to acquire a thorough 
knowledge of it, and if their individual talents 
keep pace with their perse veranc,e, they generally 
succeed. It has been remarked, that " 7iiQnks of the 
least exemplary life, are generally the best Theo- 
logians.^^ This remark has certainly its foundation 
in truth, for the name of "good Theologian^^ is 
a passport to arrive at the highest honors of the or- 
der, and therefore the ambitious, who are very sel- 
dom void of talents, direct all the energies of their 
minds to the acquisition of that, which will be the 
probable means of satisfying their darling passion. 
It must not be supposed, however, that a greater 
knowledge of God and his attributes, which a good 
Theologian is supposed to possess, necessarily in- 
cludes also a greater love for God Himself. This 
would probably be the case, if the object for which 
theology is studied, was the advancement of God's 
kingdom, and not the exaltation of self; but the 
latter being manifestly the real object, the knowl- 
edge derived from it never goes farther than the 
understanding, and is therefore incapable of touch- 
ing the heart. 

Besides, the theology of the church of Rome is 
in itself corrupt, and has a strong tendency to make 
the student forget the subject of it— or what at least 
ought to be the subject of it — God; while his mind 
is employed in unravelling the intricate and dispu- 

10* 



114 SIX YEARS IX THE 

table doctrines, which, not having any foundation in 
revelation, are enveloped in obscure and unusual 
forms of expression. The authority of Thomas 
Aquinas, called the "Angelic Doctor'^ or of the 
" Seraphic Doctor'^ Bonaventure, are esteemed by 
them of equal v/eight with the express words of 
revelation. Texts of scripture, without their con- 
texts, which w^ould bestow on them a very difi'erent 
meaning from that which they bear, when they stand 
alone, are brought forward in support of some par- 
ticular tenets; whilst all and ever}^ subject is treated 
on after the old, syllogistic method, which confounds 
the understanding without increasing the love for 
God, or implanting in the mind a desire of being 
guided by the divine influence of the Spirit of truth. 
The portions of Sciipture which are brought for- 
ward to strengthen any particular doctrine, are all 
mutilated, that is, such as, taking them apart from 
the context, seem to favor the doctrine which is dis- 
puted upon^ but if there can be no portion found, 
which however twisted and turned, yet still refuses to 
answer the occasion, then the doctrine is established 
on the strength of tradition, or on the "ipse dixit" 
of a pope; and not unfrequently on quotations from 
the apocryphal writings. Thus — and let one exam- 
ple serve for all^ as this book is not designed for 
controversy, but for a simple history of things as 
they are — the doctrine of purgatory is defended by 
arguments taken from tradition, not even excepting 
Pagan, Jewish and Mahometan, for, indeed, popish 
theologians are not over delicate in selecting their 
authorities, provided these authorities favor their 
views. Quotations are Cnen taken for its support 
from the Apocrypha, especiall}^ from 2 Maccabees 
xii. 43, 44, 45, and after these, they endeavour to 
make the New Testament speak in its favour, quot- 
ing from Matt.xii. 31, 32; 1 Cor.iii. 15; 1 Pet, iii.l9. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 115 

They care but little that the books of Maccabees 
have no evidence of inspiration; they answer their 
ends and therefore are adopted. The quotations 
from the new testament, upon examining the con- 
text, will be found to favor as much the metempsy- 
chosis of Pope Pythagoras, as the purgatory of 
Pope Joan. 

It will be no wonder, then, to find Theologians 
any thing but pious men, when such a system of 
Theology as that we have been describing, is taken 
into consideration. Indeed, they seem conscious 
themselves of this want of piety; as may be gathered 
from their condemning many propositions, which 
were probably designed for them, by the friends 
of vital godliness. Thus, the negative answers, 
to the following questions are condemned by them 
as heretical. '^ Whether the religious knowledge 
acquired by a wicked man can be termed theology?^^ 
"Whether a vicious person can in effect obtain a 
true knowledge of religion?'' " Whether the office 
and ministry of an impious ecclesiastic can be pro- 
nounced salutary and efficacious?'' "Whether a licen- 
tious and ungodly man can be susceptible of divine 
illumination?" These and many such like proposi- 
tions are condemned in the usual form, as ''scan- 
dalous^ heretical., smelling of heresy.^ offensive to 
pious ears ^"^^ <5'6?., by those, who fear for themselves, 
and feel conscious, that if they were not condemned 
they themselves would be no longer neither theo- 
logians nor religionists, nor efficacious priests, nor 
susceptible of divine illumination. 

The polemical divinity of the church of Rome, un- 
der which head are classed the works of all those who 
endeavour to defend the doctrines of that church 
against the reasonings and scriptural objections of the 
friends of the Gospel, is also studied with great atten- 
tion by monastic orders. There are professorships 
established in two and sometimes four places of 



116 SIX YEARS IN THE 

every province, where all those young monks, who 
are in possession of superior talents, are sent to 
learn the manner of defending their religion 
against the attacks oi heretics. It frequently hap- 
pens, that the young men chosen for this study are 
already far gone in infidelity, and therefore laugh in 
their own minds, and even among themselves at the 
idea of being made defenders of a religion, in 
which they do not believe. The metaphysical 
reasonings of dogmatical theology, united to the 
fables of the breviary, were the chief means of leading 
them into infidelity, wiiilst it is very probable that the 
study o{ polemics will give them a knowledge of re- 
formed Christianit}^, and thereby make them suspect, 
that Christianity ryiight possibly be true, though it 
had been corrupted by the church of which they 
are members. This, however, does not always happen. 
Those who are confirmed infidels only find new 
arguments in favour of the religion of nature, by 
becoming acquainted with the numerous sects and 
parties unto which Christianity is divided, and laugh 
at them all accordingly. Being obliged for self 
preservation to dissemble their real opinions, they 
imagine, that they cannot show their zeal for the 
Roman Catholic religion in a better way, than by 
impugning the doctrines of Gospel Christians, and 
defending those of popery; " for if it be necessary," 
they argue thus, " that Christianity should exist, it is 
preferable for us to stand fast in that particular kind 
of it, to which we are professionally engaged, and 
from' which benefits accrue to us, than to interest 
ourselves in any other to which we are equally indif- 
ferent, and from which we can expect nothing but 
persecution and hardships — the sure consequences 
of leaving that by which we get our living.'^ 
Others there are, who become cured of infidelity; 
yet fear to openly embrace the doctrines of the 
Bible. They pant after the freedom of worshiping 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY^ &C. 117 

God according to the dictates of their consciences 
and anxiously wait for an opportunity of throwing 
off the yoke of monkery and popery, without run- 
ning any personal risk. They, in the mean time, 
until such an opportunity presents itself, endeavour 
to separate Christianity from the dust, with which 
it is surrounded in the church of Rome, and whilst 
conforming themseh^es outwardly, to all the prac- 
tices of that church, they inwardly, as far as they 
are able, serve God according to the way he has 
marked out in his Holy Word. Their serm.ons and 
other clerical dulies, are not performed for the pur- 
pose of increasing the adherents of the church of 
Rome, or of propagating its particular tenets; but 
for that of drawing sinners to repentance, and to 
an unadulterated knowledge of Christ, at least as 
far as they can do so without exciting suspicion. Of 
this description of monks was the young man of 
Chambery, whose sufferings and final triumph have 
been already related. Many more also of the same 
kind might be found, who only wait for an oppor- 
tunity to regain their liberty, in order to become 
pious and zealous Christians, and faithful preachers 
of the Gospel of salvation. 

Moral theology is the last in order, though not 
in importance, of monastic studies. By this monks 
are fitted up to stand in the place of Christ, in the 
confessional, and to weigh with scrupulous nicety 
the degree of sinfulness attached to the words, ac- 
tions, and even thoughts of those who are so foolish 
or so led astray, as to trust to the absolution pro- 
nounced by them for the pardon and remission of their 
sins. By this they are taught the way of bringing 
tiie minds of the people vvholly under their con- 
troul, and of exercising the acquired influence to 
the advantage of their order and of themselves. 
Of all the corruptions in the corrupt system of 
popish corruptions, this is the most corrupt. As 



118 SIX YEARS IN THE 

preachers of corrupt doctrines, their influence over 
the peopie would never pass the hounds of modera- 
tion, as doctrines that fear the light cannot be so 
well promulgated in a public church — and by 
such chiefly is their influence acquired; but by 
the institution of auricular confessions they have ac- 
qured ingress into the minds and souls of each indi- 
vidual, and never fail, after becoming master of their 
secrets, to turn and direct the current of their 
thoughts and actions to one great object — a firm re- 
liance on the truth and infallibility of the church of 
Rome; which reliance being once established, they 
can then turn the minds of their penitents to do any 
thing, however offensive to God, which, according 
to them, may be of advantage to the church. The 
miserable man, who had been excited to assassinate 
Henry IV. of France by a Jesuit confessor, may 
be an example of the truth of this observation. 
Very probably the assassin was a superstitious bigot, 
and the representations of his confessor who well 
knevv how to work on his weak mind, excited his 
frenzy against the king, whom he was led to believe 
a heretic^ and an enemy o/ religion. He therefore 
imagined, that so far from offending God by killing 
a heretical King, he was only acquiring merit, and 
doing an action which w^ould be very pleasing to the 
Supreme Being. 

On auricular confession is founded the vulgar be- 
lief of the great power of priests. It is natural for 
the human mind to regard with a degree of venera- 
tion the person of one, who, it is led to think, re- 
presents the person of Jesus Christ in his ministeri- 
al office, and who has the faculty of forgiving or re- 
taining the sins of the people. The priests, well 
aware of this delusion, under which the people lie, 
let no opportunity slip of increasing it, and whilst 
iete a tete and alone with their penitents, they have 
every opportunity of inculcating without fear of con- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 119 

tradiction, the most absurd doctrines, and of giving 
them at the same time a most exalted idea of their 
own power and greatness. 



CHAPTER XV. 

Continuation of remarks upon Moral Theology — Mortal and venial 
Sins — Precepts of the Church — Prohibition to sell Flesh-meat 
on Frida3's and Saturdays — Punishment of those, who transgress 
the Precept of Fasting — Confession and Communion — Sentence 
of Excommunication — Number of Popish Sacraments — The Eu- 
charist — Anathema of the Council of Trent against all, who deny 
the Real Presence — Absurdity of that Doctrine — One hundred 
thousand Christs created every day — Popish Inventions for the 
support of the Doctrine of Transubstantiation — The Miraculous 
Corporal — Miraculous Particle — State of the Jews at Rome — 
A mule's testimony to the truth of the Real Presence — Anecdote 
of Rabelais — Sale of masses — Cost of a high mass— Reflections 
— The treatise upon Oaths — No Faith to be kept with Heretics 
* — Dispensing power of Priests — Murder of Protestant Clergy- 
men in Ireland — Jesuitical Morality. 

This moral theology, the principal use of which, 
I have endeavoured to give an idea of ahove, is in 
itself a huge mass of opinions given by monks, fri- 
ars and other kinds of priests, on the tendency the 
actions of their fellow creatures have to hinder or 
give claims to salvation. If all the books which 
were written on this subject, w^ere gathered together, 
they w^ould probably amount to some thousands of 
volumes! As it is, they cannot be digested even 
for school use, into a less compass than two large 
octavos. The whole system is evidently founded 
on two unscriptural tenets; salvation by works: there- 
by rendering of no avail free salvation through the 



120 ^ SIX YEARS IN THE 

merits of Christ; and the equally unscriptural doc- 
trine of the distinction between sins; some being 
denominated m.ortal and others venial. By reason 
of this distinction of sins, the various ways in which 
man may transgress against the Supreme Being and 
against His laws, and tl:e various degrees of sinful- 
ness attached to such transgressions, are examined 
with the greatest exactness. One of tlie treatises 
(the whole is divided into separate treatises,) and a 
long one it is too — is taken up in examining the 
ends of men's actions; that is, of the motives for 
which such actions are performed. According then, 
as such actions, though essentially good or bad in 
themselves, may be performed for a good or evil 
end or motive, or as one or the other may predomi- 
nate in them, they are pronounced either mortal or 
venial, indifferent or neutral by those self-constitu- 
ted judges between man and his God. Let the as- 
sassination of Henry IV, to which allusion has been 
made in the last chapter, serve for an example in illus- 
tration. Murder is in itself evil; as no one will 
deny. But if the end, for which murder is com- 
mitted be to prevent greater evils; murder is then, 
no longer murder^ no longer evil. Henry was as- 
sassinated, because he was an enemy of the church; 
so far then from his murderer having committed 
sin in murdering him, the end for which he did it, 
fully justified him. Such is Jesuitical theology, 
founded on this abominable principle: ^'The end 
justifieth the means !'^ 

The 'Hractatus de preceptis ecclesia^" or, treatise 
on the commandments of the church, is another 
part of the moral theology, by which Rome teaches 
her clergy to domineer over the consciences of the 
people. These precepts are seven in number, and 
although far, very far, indeed, from having any por- 
tion of the Divine Word to enforce the observance of 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY^ &C. 121 

them, they are yet commanded by those tyrants 
over Gospel liberty to be observed, with the same 
scrupulousness, and under the same penalty as the 
commandments of God himself. The number of 
fasts; the food to be used in time of lent, the quan- 
tity of same food; whether to be taken morning or 
evening; how those are to act, who are in a delicate 
state of health; the age at which children are bound 
to observe lent; whether nurses, who have young 
children at their breasts be free from the precept; 
each and every one of these minutiae and many 
more of equal absurdity, are discussed, and judg- 
ment passed on all those who do not observe them 
with the greatest precision. The due observance of 
saint-days, the confession of sins to a priest, the re- 
ceiving the eucharist at least once a year, and the 
payment of tithes, are all and each commanded un- 
der pain of mortal sin. A minute detail of each of 
the foregoing precepts, and of the degree of sinful- 
ness attached to their non-observance, would be 
quite uninteresting to the reader. Be it sufficient, 
then, to say, that when conscience and the fear of 
committing mortal sins are not sufficient to make 
them be observed by the people, the secular arm is 
called in to regulate the errors of conscience. In 
Rome, no flesh-meat is sold in the public markets 
on Fridays or Saturdays, nor during the whole of 
lent, unless at two or three stalls, which are licensed 
by the government, on paying a great fine, to sell it 
to those who have a written permission from their 
respective parish .priests, or from other clerical su- 
periors to make use of meat at such times; which 
permission the latter never give, unless when well 
paid for it. At the public restaurants and hotels, 
unless at those frequented by English travellers, it 
is not permitted to cook flesh-meat on fast days; 
and should the parish priest have any cause to sus- 
11 



122 SIX YEARS IN THE 

pect that flesh-meat is eaten on such days in the pri- 
vate houses of any of his parishioners, he is at li- 
berty to break into the privacies of domestic circles 
and bring the oflenders to justice, or rather injustice. 
Many cases of public punishment for transgress- 
ing this precept of fasting, are on record; but one 
in particular, which was related to me by an eye- 
witness is so glaringly unjust and cruel, that I can- 
not refrain from relating it. ^fA young man travel- 
ling on foot from Acquapendente to Rome, retired 
during the heat of the day, it being summer, to an 
osteria^ or obscure inn, on the road, to repose and 
take some refreshment. Having brought from home, 
for the sake of economy, some bread and meat; he 
opened his wallet, and began his repast, the host sup- 
plying him w^ith a bottle of wine. He had not half- 
finished his repast, when two Carabineri, or police- 
men, came into the same tavern, and seeing him do- 
ing what was not lawful to be done on a fast-day — 
eating meat — they immediately took him prisoner, 
and conveyed him to Rome between them. He was 
brought before the court the next day and con- 
demned to pa}^ a penalty of fifty Scudi, or dollars; 
or if unable to pay the fine, to sufler one hundred 
lashes on the spot w^here he had eaten the meat, and be 
kept two months with a chain to his leg at the pub- 
lic works, and confined by night in the castle of St. 
Angelo. The latter sentence was executed to a 
tittle, whilst mine host was fined fifty scudi also, for 
allowing meat to be eaten in his house on a day pro- 
hibited by the church.'^ Had the same young man 
been found guilty of maiming one of his fellow- 
creatures, or of robbing him of his property, his 
punishment would not be severer, if indeed so severe, 
as the one inflicted for daring to transgress the pre- 
cepts of the church — though the former transgres- 
sion be against the laws of God; the latter against 
the laws of man only. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY^ &C. 123 

Those who neglect to go to confession, and receive 
the sacrament at least once a year, are also punished 
by the secular arm. Their names are affixed to the 
gate of the church, and they are forbidden to enter 
it, till they are reconciled to the priest. If they 
continue obstinate, they are then formally and so- 
lemnly excommunicated. The ceremony of excom- 
munication is performed in the following manner. 
The parish priest attended by a deacon, sub-deacon^ 
and acolythist comes forward, dressed in white, and 
advancing to the lowest step of the altar, reads the 
following: Ego hujus parochise prsesul, juxta potes- 
tatem mihi concessam ab episcopo diocesano, et ex 
auctoritate summi pontificis, his presentibus com- 

munionefidelium privo, et ab eadem separoN in 

hac parochiadomiciliantem propter ; et omnes 

fideles cujuscumque gradus, status, sexus vel con- 
ditionis ab ejusdem consortio, colloquio &c. prohibeo 
sub psena excommunicationis majoris ipso facto in- 
currendae ab iis contrafacientibus, vel contradicenti- 
bus. Et sicut extinguuntunhsec lumina altaris Dei^ 
sic etiam ab eodem aufertur omnis spes futurae vitS8;> 
et post mortem, ejus cadaver careat sepultura Christi- 
ana. Amen. I, the parish priest of this parish, ac- 
cording to the power conferred on me by the bishop 
of the diocess, and by the authority of the supreme 
pontiff, deprive and separate from the communion 

of the faithful, N , residing in the parish, on 

account of * * * * (here the cause of the excom- 
munication is assigned,) and prohibit all the faithful 
of whatever rank, station, sex, or condition, from 
holding any intercourse, or connection &c. with the 
same, under penalty of excommunication, which 
will be incurred by those so acting. And as these 
candles of God's altar are extinguished, so also is 
every hope of future salvation taken away from the 
same; and let his body be deprived of Christian 



124 SIX YEARS IN THE 

burial after death. Amen. As the parish priest 
reads the foregoing, the candles are extinguished 
one after another by the attendants. The sentence 
is afterwards printed and affixed to the gate of the 
church and in the other public places of the parish. 
The sentence of excommunication is not with- 
drawn without great trouble and expense on the part 
of the excommunicated. He is in the mean time 
shunned by every one, and even b}^ his own family. 
If he has a wife, she is not allowed to speak to 
hrm or eat at one table with him. If he has chil- 
dren, they are under the same prohibition. If he 
be a poor man, and dependent on his daily labor for 
subsistence, his work is withdrawn, and he is very 
likely to die of starvation, if the sentence of excom- 
munication be not soon taken off. Having at length 
satisfied the priest in every thing, he is placed kneel- 
ing on a white cloth at the foot of the altar, and his 
back being made bare, he is whipped by the priest 
singing, or repeating the psalm " miserere,'^ and all 
this, in presence af the • assembled congregation. 
He then asks pardon of the priest, and people, for 
the scandal and bad example, which he had given, 
and having received absolution, he is allov/ed to par- 
take of the sacrament, and thus becomes fully re- 
conciled to the church. It is a very common thing 
to find the sentence of excommunication affixed 
to the church-doors of Rome and of the Roman 
state at different periods of the year, but more es- 
pecially after Easter; for this is the stated time, at 
which the inhabitants are obliged to make their an- 
nual confessions, and receive the sacrament. It may 
be easily imagined then, how many, in order to escape 
punishment, go through the form of confession and 
communion with their hearts far removed from the 
love of God and of his religion. A great many, es- 
pecially those of the learned professions, perform 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 125 

the ceremony with the greatest indifference, being 
confirmed infidels, and only watching an opportu- 
nity of throwing off the mask of hypocrisy. And 
how could they act otherwise, than with indifference, 
when they are forced to perform what they do not be- 
lieve in? Adoration is a free will offering, and by no 
means acceptable to the Deity, unless it proceeds 
from the free, unforced agency of the giver. God 
wishes the religion of the heart; how then can he 
be pleased with that, which the^ outward man is 
forced to give him? 

There are other treatises comprised in this system 
of moral theology, particular mention of which would 
be found quite uninteresting to the readers. I can- 
not however forbear making some few remarks on 
the " tractatus de sacramentis'^ or, the treatise on 
the sacraments. These are seven, according to the 
belief of the Roman Catholic church: viz. baptism, 
confirmation, eucharist, penance, extreme-unction, 
holy orders, and matrimony. More than usual pains 
are taken by popish Theologians in defending and up- 
holding the number, and efficacy of these sacraments. 
Each of them is argued upon in separate and dis- 
tinct treatises, and huge folio-volumes are written 
upon some of them; so much labor, and trouble does 
it require to give to error the appearance of truth! 
They are all and every one deemed essential to sal- 
vation; though it maybe asked, how that can be 
established; whereas laymen do not receive the sa- 
crament of orders, and priests cannot receive that 
of marriage ? This difficulty however is got over 
by a distinction (popish Theologians are great hands 
at distinctions) between universality and individuali- 
ty, that is, they are essential to the church univer- 
sally, though not to each individual of the church. 
How much more honest w^ould it be to expunge the 
two last w^iollv from the number of the sacraments, 
11* 



126 SIX YEARS IN THE 

than to have recourse to such a forced distinction! But 
this cannot be done, for then the church would ac- 
knowledge itself to have erred; and what then woulJ 
become of its claims to infallibility. 

The sacrament of the eucharist or last supper is 
especially dwelt upon at unusual length, and prop- 
ped by a host of arguments — some taken from scrip- 
ture, others from tradition, others from revelations 
made by some departed saints to some monks in this 
world, and not a few, from miracles performed to 
give testimony of its institution in the sense in 
which it is understood by Roman Catholics. It is 
well known to every one; or if it be not, it should 
be known, in order to judge of the value of an ana- 
thema; that the council of Trent anathematizes 
every one, who would dare say, that in the sacra- 
ment of the altar (thus the last supper is called,) 
"there is not really present the body and blood of 
Christ/^ Roman Catholics believe, therefore, that 
after the words of consecration " hoc est corpus 
meum'^ " this is my body'^ pronounced by the priest, 
the whole substance of the bread is changed into 
the body of Christ, and likewise, that the whole 
substance of the wine is changed into His blood, 
after the consecrating words " hie est calix sanguinis 
mei, &c.'^ "this is the cup of my blood. '^ It is 
evident, that nothing can be more contradictory to 
Scripture, or to common sense than this doctrine; 
the words "this is my body'^ "this is my blood^' 
being mere figurative expressions, as any one may 
perceive, who is not blinded by ignorance and su- 
perstition. Besides, such a transubstantiation is so 
opposite to the testimony of our senses, as com- 
pletely to undermine the whole proof of all the mira- 
cles by which God hath confirmed revelation. By it, 
the same body is alive and dead at one and the same 
moment, and may be in a million of different places, 



MONASTERIES OP ITALY, &C. 127 

whole and entire at the same instant of time; part of 
Christ's body is also made equal to the whole. If this 
be true, what difficulty is there in saying, that all the 
other miracles, which are related in the gospel, were 
only tricks of legerdemain, and impositions practis- 
ed on the senses of those, who witnessed them. It 
is also contrary to the end of the institution of the 
sacrament, which is to represent and commemorate 
Christ, not to believe that he is corporeally present, 
as is clear from 1 Cor. xi. 24, 26, But it would be 
needless to waste time in refuting a doctrine, which, 
by its impious consequences, fully refutes itself. The 
priests being conscious, that on it is founded the 
greater part of the super-human power, to which 
they so arrogantly lay claim, leave no stone un- 
turned, no argument, or appearauce of argument 
untried, by which they may impress on the minds 
of their followers a firm belief in its truth. 

On the belief, that the sacrament contains the real 
and very body and blood of Christ, is founded the sa- 
crifice of the mass, as it is styled, by which they get 
their subsistence, and in which they ofier Christ as 
a victim for the sins of the living and the dead. 
Although " Christ, ^^ if the Apostle be not mistaken, 
''was (but) once offered to bear the sins of many, ^^ 
and though "we are sanctified through the ofiering 
of the body of Jesus Christ once for all,^^ Heb. ix. 
28 and x. 10; yet he is sacrificed a hundred thousand 
timesevery day throughout theRoman Catholic world, 
and three hundred thousand times on the day held in 
commemoration of his birth; there being three masses 
celebrated by every priest on Christmas-day. This 
computation is made, supposing, that there be but one 
hundred thousand popish priests in the world, 
whereas there are probably double or treble that 
number. A hundred thousand Christs therefore 
are made every day as soon as the words of 
consecration are pronounced by the priests; and 



128 SIX YEARS IN THE 

were it possible to divide each particle of the bread 
into a million separate parts, and transfer them to so 
many places apart, there would be present really 
and corporeally as many Christs, as there are parts 
in the particle. A priest, therefore, in consecrating 
a wafer makes as many Gods, as there are infinitely 
small parts, into which a consecrated wafer can be 
divided!! No wonder, then, that men possessed of 
such extraordinary power — even that of making 
Him, who made them — should be held in such vene- 
ration by all who believe in its reality. To nurture 
this belief, no devices, no ingenuity is spared on their 
part. Being unable to fix its foundation on gospel 
grounds, they must have recourse to fables and ly- 
ing wonders, to prodigies and miracles. Out of a 
great many of these, I shall select a few for the sa- 
tisfaction of the reader. 

In the parish church of JNIonte Fiascone* there is 
preserved a corporal,t which is dyed red with blood, 
that issued from a host. The tradition annexed to 
this corporal is as follows: a young priest, whilst ce- 
lebrating mass, often doubted of the reality of his 

* A town in the pope's dominions, and situated in that part of 
them, which is called " il patrimonio di San Pietro," or, the patri- 
mony of St. Peter, from its having been bestowed to the then reign- 
ing pope by Constantine the Great, on his first embracing Christi- 
anity. The deeds of conveyance are still preserved in the church 
of St. John Lateran at Rome ; though many are so incredulous 
as to doubt their genuineness. I remember to have read in one of 
the notes to an edition of " Orlando Furioso," printed in some heret- 
ical country — Germany I believe; in which Orlando is said to have 
made a journey to the moon; where he discovered among other 
things worthy of attention, the very identical deeds, by which this 
part of Italy was made over to the successors of St. Peter ! 

t A white linen cloth, which is spread upon the altar during the 
celebration of mass; so called from being honored with the sup- 
posed body of our Saviour. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 129 

power to change the bread and wine into the body 
and blood of Christ. One day in particular, this 
doubt attacked him during mass, with more than its 
usual force. After having pronounced the words of 
consecration, and whilst breaking the host in two (a 
thing always done before the priest communicates; 
for what reason, I don't know,) lo! blood is seen is- 
suing from the wafer, and in such quantity, as to 
change the colour of the corporal, milk-white before^ 
into a deep red. The assembled multitude then 
humbly prostrated themselves and adored the holy 
particle, which thus condescended to confirm by a 
miracle the truth of the doctrine of the real presence 
and to strengthen by the same the minds of those, 
who may be tempted to doubt of its truth. The 
priest, whom, the temptation of the evil one, had led 
to doubt of his own power, fainted at the foot of the 
altar, and was borne in a state of insensibility to the 
sacristy. On recovering, he humbly confessed his 
doubts and lived ever after so holily, that he w^as 
deemed worthy after death to be enrolled among the 
numberof saints. The corporal is preserved to this 
day in a case of gold, as an eternal memorial of the 
truth of consubstantiation; an altar having been built 
in the same church for its particular worship; Vvhich 
is called ^'Paltare del corporale miracoloso,'' or, the 
altar of the miraculous corporal. Many miracles are 
daily performed before this altar, and devotees come 
to worship at it from all parts of Italy. This story is 
preserved in the archives of the church of Monte Fi-> 
ascone, and fully authenticated by the signatures of 
many respectable persons, who witnessed the mira- 
cle. But I fear, were these respectable persons to 
arise again from their graves after a residence there 
of some ages, there are many heretics, who would 
doubt the truth of it. Are you, reader, one of them? 
In another church at Rome, known by the name 



130 SIX YEARS IN THE 

of "church of the most holy sacrament/Mhere is 
preserved a particle, which changed the water of a 
deep well into blood. The manner, in which this 
happened is said to be the following: On a holy 
Thursday? the Jews sent one of their number to a 
Christian church in order that he might get posses- 
sion of the Christian's God, under pretext of receiv- 
ing the sacrament. The man having received the 
particle in his mouth from the fingers of the priest, 
immediately withdrew from the church without 
swallowing it, and carried it to the house of his Rab- 
bi. The latter invited the other Jews to assemble 
next day — Good Friday, and have the pleasure 
of again torturing the God of the Christians. 
His follow^ers assembled accordingly in great num- 
bers, each being armed with a knife, or some other 
sharp instrument, in order to reduce to atoms the 
particle. The Rabbi himself gave it the first cut, 
when immediately blood began to flow from the wa- 
fer to the astonishment of all present. Fearing that 
the wricked deed might come to the knowledge of 
the authorities, they took up the particle, and threw it 
into a deep well; the water of which was instantane- 
ously turned into blood, and a divine splendor wasseen 
toencompassits mouth. This was observed by some 
one passing by, who immediately gave the alarm, 
and on search being made, the blessed particle was 
found, floating, on the water; and still bleeding. The 
Rabbi and hisaccompiiceswereobliged to confess their 
crime, and suS'ered the punishment of death, which 
they so well merited; having been torn asunder by 
the populace, whilst the wafer was carried in proces- 
sion to the nearest church and deposited in the ta- 
bernacle. A church was afterwards built on the site 
of the Rabbi's house, and the identical wafer is still 
preserved in it, for the adoration of future ages. 
The foregoing story wms probably invented, in or- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY; &C. 131 

der to find a pretence for extorting money from the 
wretched Jews and to excite against them the popu- 
lar hatred. It is made also to answer the purpose of 
confirming the people's belief in the real presence by 
a miracle. It is well known, that the Jews have 
more liberty, and more justice shown them in the 
capital of Mahometanism, than in that of popery — 
by professors of the religion of the false prophet than 
by the followers of the meek and lowly Jesus. They 
are shut up, like so many malefactors, between two 
gates, every night in a place called '' il ghetto,'' 
by their Christian task-masters, whereas in Constan- 
tinople, they at least have the power of retiring to 
their homes, when they think proper, and have no 
gates to hinder them from access to their families, 
and no prisons to fear, if found in the streets after a 
certain hour. They are not obliged to listen to the 
preaching of the Turkish Mufti, under pain of fine and 
im.prisonment, whereas at Rome they are forced* to 
hear a sermon once a week delivered by some friar, 
in order to imbue their minds with that idolatry, 
though under another name, for which their forefa- 
thers were so often punished, and w^hich Jews so ge- 
nerally hold in abhorrence. What I have said of 
their treatment in Rome, can also be said with equal 
truth concerning it in the other cities of Italy where 
they are to be found; and more especially in the 
other cities of the pope's temporal dominions, as An- 
cona, Senegaglia, Bologna, &:c. 

In the cathedral church of Venice, there is also 

* If they do not attend the sermon, and answer to their names, 
when called, they are fined and imprisoned. When they do attend, 
there is a man with a long pole, who strikes them if he observe their 
attention withdrawn from the preacher, for one moment. No won- 
der, then, that the Jews hate Christianity, wlien they have such a 
sample of it as this before them. 



132 SIX YEARS IN THE 

preserved in a vial the blood of our Saviour. Some 
say, that it is a part of the identical blood, that 
flowed from his wounds at Calvary, whilst others 
not so credulous, think it only the blood, w^hich 
flowed from a consecrated wafer, and was collected 
and preserved for the veneration of the people. I 
shall relate one story more, fabricated for a proof of 
the real presence, and then quit the subject, with 
which, I fear, the reader is already disgusted. Some 
time after the reformation in Germany, a heretical 
painter came to Rome to perfect himself in his art, 
by copying after the celebrated masters, who have 
adorned by their works the holy city.* Being im- 
bued with the sacramentarian heresy, he endea- 
voured as far as he could without danger, to ridicule 
the doctrine of the real presence. One day, whilst 
riding through the street on a mule, he saw at a dis- 
tance, a procession, carrying the vialicumt or euchar- 

* Urbs sacra ^ or holy city, is an epithet appUed to Rome by 
many writers on ecclesiastical history, when they have need to 
mention that capital. Perhaps they understand " sacra" in the sense 
Virgil applies " sacra auri fames " that is, " accursed." If so, they 
only imitate the Tuscan expression of " Roma santa; popoli cor- 
nuti," holy Rome but horned people. 

t Viaticum, properly means " provisions for a journey. A dying 
man being about to set out on a journey to the other world, is first ans 
ointed that is, he has his feet, and other parts of his body besmeared 
with oil, in which consists the sacrament of extreme-unction. He 
may, or he may not receive the Eucharist, prior to this operation 
which on this occasion is called " viaticum" as being that, which 
he must live upon during his journey to Heaven. Rabelais, the 
French wit, being asked by a friend some days before his death, if he 
were prepared to die? "Oh yes !" answeerd he, "for I have got my 
wallet stored with the necessary provisions, and my boots greased" 
— meaning that he had received the viaticum, and extreme unction. 
He was a Franciscan friar, whom a disgust for monkery hurled 
into infidelity. It is surprising, what trust is placed by Romanists 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 133 

ist to a dying person. He endeavoured to turn his 
mule into another street, lest he should be obliged 
to dismount and adore it, upon coming nearer. The 
animal howev^er, more devout than his rider, refused 
to be guided by him, and much against his will, bore 
him in front of the procession, where, as if to show 
him an example, it knelt down and devoutly adored 
the holy sacrament ! 

By such ridiculous stories as these re]ated,is the po- 
pular superstitition kept alive, and the priests' power 
upheld. Being unable to establish so absurd a doc- 
trine on any part of the Divine Word, and conscious, 
that the belief in it forms the corner stone of their 
oiher pretensions, they spare neither conscience nor 
truth in their attempts to give it the appearance of a 
doctrine pleasing to the Supreme Being. Hence the 
miracles and other lying wonders invented in attest- 
ation of it; hence also the corporals, innumerable por- 
tions of blood, incorruptible wafers, and such like mum- 
mery, to be found scattered through the churches of 
Italy, and through other parts of popish Europe. 
The people thus wheedled into a belief of tran- 
substantiation, have the most exalted opinion of the 
men, who are the agents of it, and accordingly give 
money to have it performed on their behalf, that is, 
they buy masses, to be celebrated according to their 
intention, from those traffickers in the blood of Christ. 
Rich men — especially such as have led a life of de- 
bauchery — leave by their will a sum of money for 
so many masses to be annually celebrated for the re- 
pose of their souls. Money oflen amassed by extor- 

in extreme-unctioR. The first question asked by the friends of a 
deceased, upon being informed of his death, is " has he been 
anointed?" If the answer be in the affirmative, then follows the 
exclamation, " thank God I" Salvation through the merits of a 
crucified Saviour is never once thought upon I ! 
12 



134 SIX YEARS IN THE 

tion and injustice, is thus bequeathed, in hope of ap- 
peasing the divine wrath by offering again as a pro- 
pitiatory sacrifice him, who made atonoment once 
for all for the sins of the whole world on Calvary; 
the sacrifice being thus impiously reiterated in con- 
tradiction to the words of a dying Saviour " it is fin- 
ished;'' or as the Latin Vulgale has them " consum- 
matum est. There are in Rome hundreds of priests, 
whose means of subsistence entirely depend upon 
the emolument derived from masses. They make 
the tour of the different churches every morning, and 
wherever they find the most mon^y for their mass 
there they celebrate it. Two Roman Pauls — about 
twenty-five cents — is generally the price of a common 
mass, and four dollars, or more, for a high mass, or 
'' missa cantata,'' which cannot be celebrated without 
the presence of four or five priests, who divide the 
money between them, after the performance, as co- 
medians are accustomed to do with their night's be- 
nefit; the high priest receiving the largest portion, 
and so on according to their different ranks. 

The ^Hractatus de juramentis," or the treatise on 
oaths, has in it something so subversive of the 
general good of society, especially of protestant 
society, that I cannot refrain from making a few 
remarks upon it. After explaining the nature 
of an oath, and the rigor with which it ought to be 
observed, this treatise goes on to determine the de- 
gree of sin attached to the breaking of it; what 
penalty is incurred by the man, who takes a false 
oath in attestation of an untruth, and whether one 
taken for the good of the church be sinful or other- 
wise? The latter question is that which I wish to 
call the attention of the reader to, in particular; as 
it may teach him the degree of trust and confidence 
which he can safely place in any oath, contract or 
bond entered into with any Roman Catholic, when 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY^ &C. 135 

such oath or contract be in any way contrary to the 
good of the Romish church. It has been decreed 
by the council of Constance, and the same decree 
has been confirmed by divers popes, and practised 
upon in most places, if not in all where Roman 
Catholics are mixed up with Protestants; " that no 
faith be kept with heretics/^ Every Roman 
Catholic is at liberty, to swear to any lie, which he 
himself pleases, or which he is instructed to affirm, 
without falling into sin, provided he acts so for the 
good of the church. So far from such a violation 
of the sacredness of an oath being held as crimi- 
nal, he is taught by his priest that it is meritorious 
and laudable. A Roman Catholic is also dispensed 
from executing the terms of an oath, which he may 
have entered into with a heretic, if the observance 
of such terms be hurtful to the interest of his 
church; and a priest when summoned before a pro- 
testant court of justice to give evidence against a 
co-religionist, can safely swear, though he is at the 
same time certain of the man^s guilt, that he knows 
nothing whatever, concerning the case in question; 
and if the condemnation of the prisoner be attended 
with any damage to the church, he is commanded 
to swear positively to the prisoner's innocence. If 
he act otherwise, he is severely punished — perhaps 
suspended from his clerical duties. A Roman 
Catholic is not deemed delinquent when he invents 
any audacious calumny and confirms it by an oath, 
if his design be to promote the cause of popery, 
and to impede and cover with disgrace protestanism. 
Thus in Ireland the Roman Catholic periodicals 
teem everyday with invectives against the protestant 
clergy as a body, and more especially against those 
individually, who deem it a duty which they owe 
to God, and society, to thwart the priests in their 
system of imposition, and in their settled plan 



136 SIX YEARS IN THE 

of leading to destruction and final damnation the 
souls committed to their charge. On this account 
they incur the enmity of the priests, who are not 
sparing of their abuse, and if nothing true (which is 
generally the case) can be brought forward to in- 
jure their opponents in' the opinion of the public, 
recourse is had to false accusations, which are speed- 
ily attested by some hopeful members of their flock. 
This is only acting up to the principle laid down 
in their morality " that nothing can be sinful or un- 
just when the advantage of the church is at stake." 
But it would be well if priests contented themselves 
with simply forging false accusations against the 
conscientious ministers of the Gospel. Their zeal 
for the suppression of heresy, often shows itself 
in acts of violence against the persons of the 
heretics; for not unfrequently do they excite their 
deluded followers to insult and injure them. It is 
well known how many protestant clergymen were 
waylaid and murdered, in Ireland, of late years, and 
how many of their houses were burned by nightly 
parties of priest-ridden bigots. It has been re- 
marked that those ministers who were the most 
zealous and active in the cause of Christ, were 
always chosen for the assassin's knife; whilst others 
. who were indifferent to the propagation of Gospel 
truth, and who lived on good terms with the priest, 
were always saved from harm under his protecting 
wing. Is it not then reasonable to suppose, that 
the murders and outrao;es committed on the former, 
were not without the priests' knowledge, or would 
it be too much to say, that those acts of violence 
were committed at their instigation? The priests 
certainly connived at them, for they used every 
means in their power to screen the oflenders from 
justice. But this is not all. A Roman Catholic 
can very easily obtain from his priest for a trifle of 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 137 

money, a dispensation from performing any contract 
entered into with a protestant, even in things which 
do not belong to the church, and from the perform- 
ance of which the church could not possibly receive 
any damage. This power is granted to the priest 
by a canon of his church, wherein it is expressly 
declared " that every oath or contract, by which a 
Roman Catholic is bound to a Protestant can be 
rendered null and void, if so it seem fit to the pope 
or priest.'' If then the protestant have no better 
way of making the Roman Catholic adhere to his 
plighted faith, than the conscience of the latter, he 
may be almost certain of being deceived. The 
scruples of conscience are soon removed on paying 
a half-dollar, or sonae other sum, according to the 
means of the applicant to a priest. According then 
to these doctrines, it is manifest, that any protestant 
placing confidence in the oath of a Roman Catholic, 
acts, to say the least of it, imprudently. Either the 
Roman Catholic deceives him, or he does not. If he 
does not, he is a Roman Catholic only in name, for he 
does not act up to the dictates of his church, and is un- 
willing to make use of her dispensing power. If he 
does, it is only the practical effects of the morality I 
have been giving a description of, and therefore no 
matter of wonder. Cobbett somewhere tells a story 
of a Cornish knave, who, before taking a false oath, 
which he was often in the habit of doing, was ac- 
customed, before going to give his evidence, to pro- 
mise to himself, that he would swear falsely that day. 
Was this Cornish knave a Roman Catholic, or did 
he act so by advice of the priest? It looks very 
like a Jesuitical prank. 

12"" 



138 SIX YEARS IN THE 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Reflections upon monastic Studies — Extraordinary charity of those, 
who endeavour to excuse doctrinal Error — The young- monk 
begins to see monachism, as it really is — Schools, in which he 
learns the secrets of Monachism — Want of decorum in reciting 
the Divine Office — Gradual corruption of the young Monk — 
Monks, bons vivants — The manner in which the income of con- 
vents is spent — Belly veisus Obedience; a scene in monkish 
life — Cardinal Micara in jeopardy — The foregoing scene Dra- 
matized — Calumny and detraction of Monks — Their conversa- 
tion in the Refectory — Monkish luxuries obtained at the sacrifice 
of honour and virtue — Story of a young man, the victim of 
monkish calumny — Clerk of the Kitchen — Manner of punish- 
ing a bad Cook — Monkisli fasting and abstinence — Lent — Din- 
ners — Collation — ^Monkish false pretensions. 

The foregoing remarks on monastic studies will 
give the reader some idea of the way, in which 
monks are prepared for acting their parts in the sonl- 
destroying drama of popery. JNIany protestants 
imagine, that most of the glaring corruptions, mo- 
ral and dogmatical, which are to be found in tlie 
Romish church are more (he effects of human weak- 
ness, than of any organized system established by 
the authority of that church. But on examining 
the works and opinions of popish theologians, and 
the canons by which these opinions are confirmed, 
it will be found, that no error, however great, no 
superstition, however derogating from the honor 
due to God, is left unsealed by the authority of the 
church itself. Monks therefore and priests of every 
description are taught the manner of propagating 
those errors, which, if they were not a component 
part of the doctrine of the church, would not form 



MON'ASTEPaES OF ITALY. &C. 139 

a portion, and the larger portion too, of tiie studies, 
which are deemed essential to the candidates for the 
Roman Catholic ministry. People, therefore, who, 
through an excess of charity, overlook such glaring 
errors, or attribute them, not to the church itself, 
but to the liability to err of human nature, should 
first examine, if this species of charity be not rather 
the effect of indifference for the vital doctrines of 
Christianity, than of love, and desire of excusing 
the errors of their fellow-men. If one single erro- 
neous practice of the church of Rome can be found 
unauthorized by the clergy, and head of that church; 
or if not expressly authorized, it can be found un- 
favoured indirectly, or not countenanced b\' them, 
then indeed there may be some room left for chari- 
tably hoping, that many of its absurd doctrines are 
the effects of popular superstition, and not the genuine 
teaching of the church; but until such an one be 
found — and I believe, that will be never — it will not 
be thought uncharitable to condemn the misplaced 
and extraordinary charity of those, who are so de- 
sirous of exercising it in favour of error. 

Six years is the usual time allowed for passins; 
through the course of study, which has been de- 
scribed, after which the student is examined, and \i 
he be approved of. he obtains a licence for preach- 
ing, and for exercising the other offices attaciied to 
the priesthood. This licence can be granted by no 
other, than the chief-superior of the order, who is 
called the General; but when the subjects are at a 
great distance from Rome, and cannot, therefore, per- 
sonally appear before him for examination, without 
great inconvenience, it is then sent to them on the 
strength of a certificate, from their local superior, of 
their ability and fitness. During the years of study, 
the young monks have also more opportunities of 
observing the lives and conduct of the other monks. 



140 SIX YEARS IN THE 

and of becoming more intimately acquainted with 
monachism, than they had, whilst simply novices. 
They are, during the time they are students, kept 
less confined, and allowed more intercourse with the 
older monks. This more intimate knowledge of 
the monastic state is generally, if not universall}^, 
attended with disgust. They were com.paratively 
happy, while kept in ignorance of the real state of 
things; but now that the whole, undisguised truth 
is open to them, when they have no opening left 
for escape, having made a solemn profession; they 
find by experience the monastic state quite different 
in practice, from what it appears to the uninitiated, 
or to those, who judge from the theory of the 
rule. Where they expected to find peace, brotherly 
love, devotion and godliness; the}^ discover little 
else than contentions, mutual hatred, superstition 
and impiety. Wo be to him though, who is so im- 
prudent as to express his dislike to such a life, after 
having made his vows. If he wishes to have any 
future peace, he must dissemble his disgust, and ac- 
commodate himself to circumstances. By degrees 
he will soon learn to live as others do, and by long 
practice in the art of monkery, he will become equal 
and perhaps surpass others in the very things, for 
which he at first had so oreat an aversion. 

The choir, refectory, conversation-room, &c. are 
the schools, in which the secrets and practices of 
monachism are very soon learned. The very little 
attention paid to the divine office during the time it 
is reciting in choir is complained of — even by the 
monks themselves. They are conscious, that the 
careless manner in which it is performed, is suffi- 
cient to destroy any degree of merit attached to it; 
and even taking it for granted, that the repetition of 
psalms in an unknown tongue can be a right way of 
offering homage to the Supreme Being; the inat- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 141 

tention,\vilh which itis performed, must certainly ren- 
der it rather offensive than pleasing to Him. Many- 
monks do not understand the language in which it is 
recited, whilst those who do, are, for the greater part, 
confirmed infidels, and go through it as a part of their 
daily labour. The words of the prophet Isaiah can 
be justly then applied to a monkish choir — "These 
worship me with their lips, but their hearts are far 
from me.^' The 3'oung monk on leaving the con- 
vent, in which he passed his year of probation, 
where some attention is paid to decorum, at least, in 
the performance of this duty, feels surprised at the 
inattention it is gone through in the other convents. 
By degrees, however, he accustoms himself to this 
want of respect, and reverence in the worship of 
God, and very soon joins his brethren in snuff-taking, 
laughing, smiling, and in the other devices practised 
by them to kill the time they are obliged to give 
their bodily presence to the worship of the Supreme 
Being. 

The refectory is another school, in which the 
young monk learns the real condition of the life he 
had embraced, and to which he had bound himself 
by his solemn profession. The table of the convent, 
in which he passed his novitiate, or y^ear of proba- 
tion, was frugal and temperate, and rather scanty; 
he will then be surprised — agreeably so perhaps — to 
find the tables of such convents as are not troubled 
with novices, groaning under the weight of the best, 
that the season can afford. There are no persons so 
fond of a good dinner as monks, and very few, who 
put in practice so many shameless arts to obtain one. 
Indeed, all Italians are fond of eating, but monks 
are so to a proverb; for "mangiare come un frate" 
means to fare as sumptuously, and as greedily as a 
friar — an expression applied to those, who are able 
to maintain a good table. Another proverb also 



142 SIX YEARS IN THE 

seems to hint, that friars are well known for good 
livers, indeed their general appearance shows, that 
they are in the habit of spending more hours in the 
refectory? than in the choir, for they are mostly fat, 
corpulent men. The Italian peasantry express their 
idea of a fat beast of any kind- — a hog, e. g — by com- 
paring it to a friar. ^'Poreo grasso come un frate," "a 
hog as fat as a friar,^^^ is a common expression, and not 
meant to cast reproach on the profession of a friar, 
but used as being adequate to convey an idea of ex- 
treme obesity. 

The income of the convents is principally spent 
in this way. If the superior should endeavour to 
curtail the usual number of dishes, or appl}^ the 
money of the convent to any other use than in satis- 
fying his subjects' desire of eating, and drinking, 
he may be certain of incurring their hatred, and 
of being deposed. Letters of complaint will be 
written against him to the general superior at 
Rome, and false accusations will be brought for- 
ward to hasten his ruin. If he continue obstinate, 
in his purpose of withholding the desired sumptuous 
entertainments, attempts will even be made on his 
life. Examples of the latter method of avenging 
the wrongs of the belly are numerous: but I shall 
relate only one, which fell under my own observation. 

In the convent of the Capuchins at Rome, the 
usual number of courses evey^-day is four for din- 
ner, and two for supper, with a plentiful supply of 
wine, fruit, confections, &c. ; though on feast-days, 
and other solemn occasions, the above number is in- 
creased as far as twelve and sometimes twenty! 
Repairs being wanted to one of the wings of the 
convent, Cardinal Micara, who was general of the 
order, at the time the things, I am going to relate, 
happened, determined upon withholding som,e of the 
usual courses, and apply the money thereby saved 
towards paying the expenses of the requisite re- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 143 

pairs. Presuming on his authority as General of 
(he order, and supposing that no one would have 
the boldness to dispute the will of a cardinal, he 
thought it needless to consult the other friars, or to 
ask their consent, on the proposed measure. How 
much he overvalued his authority and the deference 
due to him as a cardinal, was proved in the sequel. 
The friars were astonished the first day, that his de- 
cision began to be put in practice, to find themselves 
put off with two dishes for dinner, and only one for 
supper.^ Yet they allowed it to pass over in silence, 
imagining that it was caused by some extraordinary 
scarcity of provisions in the market. The next day 
came, and the same number of courses were served 
up as the day before. This was lollowed by mur- 
mers and whispers among themselves. They at 
last came to the determination, and agreed to rise in 
a body, and demand the reason of this unusual pro- 
ceeding, should it be repeated on the third day. 
The third day came, and with it the same dinner, 
as the two former. At a signal before agreed 
upon, each and every one arose from his seat, and 
clamorously demanded the reason of being oblio-ed 
to dine on two courses, contrary to the rules a'nd 
regulations of the convent. The superior endea- 
voured to appease the tumult, and began to explain 
that such was the generaPs order; but had not pro- 
ceeded far in his discourse, when he received a blow 
from a bottle thrown at him by some invisible hand, 
which stunned him and soon covered him over with 
blood and wine; the bott>e having been broken 
against his head. The confusion now became general; 
bottles, decanters, tumblers, plates and dishes, flew 
about in all directions. The superior, after recover- 
ing a little from his blow, thought it the best plan 
to make good h'^:escape, which he at length effected 
after receivin^a fc^v more wounds, from the missiles 



144 SIX YEARS IN THE 

that were thrown at him. He proceeded to the car- 
dinal's apartment, and related to him what was going 
on in the refectory. The cardinal hastened to the 
scene of action, but his presence was hailed by a 
volley of jugs, and tumblers, and he also was very 
glad to run for his life, after receiving three cuts — 
one of them from a knife— which confined him to 
his bed for some weeks after. On regaining his 
own apartment, he dispatched one of his servants 
for the police, who immediately surrounded the con- 
vent, and through their exertions, peace was in sonje 
degree restored" There was much blood spilt, and 
not few of the combatants carry marks of the wounds 
received in this engagement to this day, if they be 
living, and I have little doubt, but they are. The 
convent was placed under an interdict, till the ring- 
leaders could be discovered. The affair was very 
soon spread through the whole city, and found its 
way into the French newspapers. It vvas aftervvard 
made the subject of a tragi-comic opera, and acted 
with great applause at many of the French theatres. 
The principal and leading character in the play was 
Cardi?ial Micara, dressed in the habit of his order. 
In the first act, he is represented plotting with 
other aged monks against the bellies of his subjects, 
and bargaining with the undertaker for the repairs 
of the convent. The second act introduces the as- 
sembly of monks laying plans for resisting the in- 
roads made on their daily allowance of delicacies, 
and binding themselves by a solemn engagement, 
ratified by a glass of wine, to resist to the last. The 
third and last acts represents the scene of action; the 
coming of the cardinal into the Refectory, his ser- 
mon on obedience, his wounds, his flight, &c. This 
monkish brawl was followed by serious injury to 
the private interest of the cardinal; for he was oblig- 
ed to resign his oiBce of nuncio to the court of St. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 145 



Cloud, to which he was appointed by Leo XIL 
some time before. He was well aware, that the 
scandalous scene, in which he bore so conspicuous a 
part, would not be very easily erased from the 
minds of the French, and consequently, not to put 
himself in the way of ridicule, he very prudently 
resigned his nunciature.* 

The refectory is also the place where the young 
monk learns from the example of others, to murmur 
against, and caluminate his absent acquaintances. No 
people are so given to backbiting and detraction as 
monks, and none exercise it so freely as they do, 
w-henever an opportunity presents itself. In the re- 
fectory especially, whenever reading is dispensed 
with — and this very frequently happens, five days 
in the week perhaps — their conversation is made 
up entirely of criticism on the conduct and actions 
of some unfortunate monk of their acquaintance, 
who is not present to defend himself. If an indif- 
ferent person were present, or one unacquainted 
with monachism, and its customs, he would imagine 
that the person, on whom the conversation turns, is 
a monster of iniquity, and unfit to bear the name of 
man. Indeed, it seems, that the chief end for which 
they were created, was for giving pain to their fel- 
low-creatures; and if it were, they could not pur- 
sue a better course, than the one daily followed, to 
arrive at that end. A subject for conversation being 
started, by the superior perhaps, relative to the con- 
duct of Father T'his, or Brother That^ every one 
hastens to make his own remarks upon it, and draws 

* The above description of the drama, I had from a French 
gentleman who assured me, that he himself saw it acted on the 
theatre of Marseilles. I have no reason to doubt the truth of his 
assertion, though I never saw a copy of it myself, nor ever knew 
any other person who saw it acted, 
13 



146 SIX YEARS IN THE 

forth from his retentive memory some past failing 
or other of the unfortunate monk^s. Thus they 
continue eating and murmuring, drinking and ca- 
lumniating, till the signal is given for returning 
thanks. Then all arise, and the superior hegins the 
form of prayer for the occasion with the words 
"tu autem, Domine, miserere nobis'^ " pity us, O 
Lord ;'^ as if the Lord could be pleased with men, 
whose onl}^ and greatest pleasure lies in gratifying 
the brutal passions of eating to excess, drinking in 
proportion, and tearing asunder the characters of 
their absent brethren. It is not enough for them to 
indulge their bodies in feeding upon the meat ob- 
tained at the expense of every principle that en- 
nobles human nature, but they must also indulge 
their spleen and rancour — the most hateful passions 
of the mind — in taking away the good name of some 
of their fellow^ victims — for they are all victims to 
the detestable, unchristian system of monkery. 
Nor let it be thought too bold an assertion to sa}^, 
that their meat or living is obtained at the" expense 
of every principle that ennobles human nature;'^ 
for what can be niore debasing to the human mind, 
than to yield an implicit, blind obedience to one, 
who, it feels conscious, very often commands things 
quite at variance with its own innate sense of right? 
Is .not the whole life of a monk one, uninterrupted 
scene of lies and imposition? Is he not daily acting 
the part of an impostor and hypocrite, w^hen at the 
command of an atheistical superior, he teaches 
doctrines in which he does not believe himself? 
And to what else do all these labors and pains in 
the service of Satan, and in bringing the souls of 
his fellow-m.en under the grasp of that enemyj to 
what else, I say, do they tend than to obtain where- 
withal to satisfy the factitious, and artificial wants 
of inordinate desires? To supply the refectory 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 147 

with more than is often thought necessary for the 
tables of princes! If this be not obtaining bread at the 
sacrifice of virtue and truth, I do not kno^v what is! 
Human nature is therefore debased, and he cannot 
be a good monk, who does not sacrifice every gene- 
rous feeling, every principle, by which man is 
rendered superior to the brute, at the monstrous 
shrine of monkery. 

I have already, in another part of this book, given 
some examples of the evil efiects following persecu- 
tion; I shall now relate one illustrative of another 
.branch of persecution — calumny or backbiting, to 
wit; which is near akin to persecution, with this 
sole diflerence, that the latter is conducted openly, 
and in the face of all, whereas the former is carried 
on privately, and the subject of it very seldom be- 
comes aware of his danger till he finds himself on 
the brink of ruin. 

A young monk, whose name I do not now recol- 
lect, though I was slightly acquainted with him, be- 
ing sent by the general to preach at a village in the 
Campagna di Roma, took up his residence at the 
house of a respectable inhabitant of that village, 
where there was a young woman, a daughter of the 
master of the house. It happened, that he fell dan- 
gerously ill before the end of the lent,* and being 
unable to remove to his convent, he was obliged to 
remain at the forementioned house till after his re- 
covery. During his illness he was treated with the 
greatest attention by every member of the family, 
and by no one more so, than by the young woman, 

* Lent is the only season of the year in which there are sermons 
every day in the churches of Italy. At other times, except a pa- 
neg-yric on a saint, or sermon in praise of the Madonna, the entire 
devotion of the people is spent on the dramatic mummery of the 
mass, or some other unscriptural ceremony. 



148 SIX YEARS IN THE 

who was the mistress of it; her mother being dead. 
On being reinstated in health, he was diffuse in his 
thanks to the gentleman and his daughter for their 
kind treatment; and as a more substantial proof of 
his gratitude, he presented the latter with a valuable 
gold ring, which he bought designedly for that pur- 
pose. But that ring was the beginning of his mis- 
fortunes. The young woman, not even thinking, at 
this time, of any thing improper, made no secret of 
the ring, and showed it to a great many of her ac- 
quaintances, and among others, she showed it to an- 
other monk of the same order with him, from whom, 
she got it. He being a private enemy of the other, and 
only waiting for an opportunity of bringing some- 
thing forward, that might injure him, soon told it to 
a second, with some additions; the second then told 
it to a third, and it went from one to another in this 
way, until it became at length the table-talk of the 
entire province. It at last reached the GeneraFs ears 
only a few days before the young monk himself was 
publicly upbraided by one of the other monks \vith 
whom he had some falling out, with having de- 
bauched the young woman, and of having given her 
a ring in token of his love. This accusation, of 
which he knew himself innocent, struck him speech- 
less, and his silence was construed by the others in- 
to a tacit confession of his guilt. He was sent for 
to make his appearance at Rome before the General, 
and answer the accusation. He appeared, and de- 
nied having had intercourse with the young woman, 
requesting at the same time to know the authors of 
the calumny. The General replied, that the ring, 
which he had given her was a sufficient proof of his 
guilt, and that the young woman herself confessed to 
her father, that she was with child, and that she had 
been violated by him. The young man knew not what 
to do, and being unable to bring forward anything 



V MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 149 

in proof of his innocence, he was suspended from the 
priesthood, and sent a prisoner to the dungeon of 
the inquisition at Corneto, there to live confined the 
remainder of his life. His innocence, however, after- 
wards appeared, for the young woman, brought to 
the grave in giving birth to a child, being seized with 
remorse, confessed publicly before her death, that 
she had falsely accused" the young monk, and that 
she had been betrayed by another young man, who 
paid his addresses to her, and afterwards deserted 
her. She also confessed, that she laid the crime of 
seduction to the charge of the monk, being excited 
to do so by her confessor, who told her, that she 
would be received into a nunnery after the birth of 
her child, if she could prove, that she had been vio- 
lated by an ecclesiastic. The most extraordinary 
circumstance in this story is, that the confessor, who 
gave th^ young woman this perfidious advice, turned 
out to be the young monk's secret enemy, and the 
most active propagator, and indeed the first inventor, 
of this most scandalous falsehood. So much for the 
conscience of confessors, who hold the oflSce of jud- 
ges between God and man! The young monk was 
afterwards released from prison, and obtained leave 
from the Pope to leave the order altogether. What 
became of him after his secularization, I never could 
learn, as he quitted the Roman state and retired to 
Lombardy, his native province. 

This young man's character was torn asunder a 
million of times in every refectory of the province, 
before the false accusation reached his own ears; 
and I remember to have seen joy sparkling in th^ 
eyes, and breaking forth from the countenances o{ 
his fiend-like calumniators, whilst discussing this, 
to them, pleasing subject. Many other crimes were 
also laid to his charge, which never existed but ii? 
the treacherous minds of his accusers, and calumnia 

13* 



150 SIX YEARS IN THE 

tors. They knew very well, that if the first accu- 
sation could be made good, all other accusations how- 
ever improbable they might be, would be easily 
credited. They, therefore, in order to satisfy their 
malicious dispositions, and to give food to their 
hellish appetite for the misery of others, scrupled 
not to lay to the charge of one that never offended 
or injured them, crimes of the most enormous dye — 
and all this for the fiendish satisfaction of triumphing 
over a fallen brother, whom they should rather have 
endeavoured to reform than to calumniate — if they 
were possessed of the smallest particle of that, to 
which they so audaciously lay claim — Gospel per- 
fection. 

Another subject of discussion in the refectory, is 
the quality of the food, and the manner in which it 
is prepared. Many monks are excellent cooks, and 
though they do not perform the laborious part of 
cookery, yet they give their directions and superin- 
tend the business of the kitchen, with great atten- 
tion — much greater perhaps than the)^ bestow upon 
the works of the ministry. There is always ap- 
pointed in each convent a superindendent of the 
cooking department, or clerk of the kitchen, whose 
duty it is to give directions to the lay-brothers, who 
are the working cooks, of the manner in which such 
and such dishes should be prepared, and according 
as he may perform this office to the satisfaction of 
the other monks, his future promotion to the higher 
dignities of the order depends. If dinner be badly 
prepared, a general murmur ensues, and the poor 
cook is immediately called upon to render an ac- 
count of his want of attention. If he can give no 
satisfactory reason for the soup's being too salt, or 
badly tasted, or the meat's being over-boiled, or 
half-raw, he is liable to be instantly punished by the 
superior. Sometimes, the clamour against him is 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 151 

SO great, especially if he should fail in his cooking 
two or three times successively, that the monks in- 
flict punishment on him with their own hands, and 
thus, in a summary way, take vengeance for the 
trespasses, which his carelessness, or want of skill 
committed against their palates. This, however, 
seldom occurs, as they usually leave it to the supe- 
rior to decree, what punishment is due to so great 
an oflender. The punishment more frequently in- 
flicted on him is the discipline^ and bread and water 
for dinner, which he must eat on his knees. The 
discipline is a sort of punishment, which cannot but 
appear strange to the generality of people in this 
country; it may not then be thought foreign to the 
subject to give a short description of it, especially, 
as it is only among monks that had cooking is pun- 
ished with the lash. 

The monk having received his sentence, whilst 
on his knees in front of the seat occupied by the 
superior, kisses the ground in token of humility 
and obedience. He then retires to the farthest cor- 
ner of the refectory, and kneeling down, draws his 
habit over his head, by which his bare back is ex- 
posed, and with a cord prepared for that purpose, 
begins the act of flagellation, singing in the mean- 
time the "miserere,^^ which being finished, he draws 
down the habit again, and having put it in order, 
proceeds to the head of the table, where the supe- 
rior is seated, and asks pardon, first from him, and 
then of the other monks for the fault he had com- 
mitted. He then returns to his own place, and 
taking the bread and water from the table, he places 
them before him, and having first asked leave from 
the superior, commences his dinner. The other 
monks, all this time, continue in their seats, and 
enjoy the satisfaction of seeing him punished, with 
feelings rendered still more hostile by having their 
dinner spoiled through the culprit's carelessness. 



152 SIX YEARS IN THE 

This punishment is seldom inflicted for any other 
fault than that of bad cooking. Indeed, this is con- 
sidered one of the greatest crimes, of which a monk 
can be guilty, and is, therefore, punished with unu- 
sual severity. If, however, the cook should still 
continue to send to the table badly cooked or un- 
savoury dishes, he is then dismissed altogether from 
that office, as being one incapable of performing it, 
and transferred to some other of less responsibility; 
or, if he be not professed, he is dismissed from the or- 
der altogether, as one likely to be of no advan- 
tage to it. 

The lent, or lents, for some orders have more 
than one, are passed in the same round of feasting 
as any other part of the year. The only difference 
is, that fish takes the place of flesh. If the expense 
be looked to, a dinner of the latter is far more ex- 
pensive than one of the former. The same number 
of dishes is served up, consisting of different kinds 
of fish, or if different kinds cannot be obtained 
either for love or money, then the same kind, but 
prepared in different ways, is used. Boiled, fried, 
roasted, and stewed fish is often served up at the 
same meal. The soup — an indispensable article in 
an Italian dinner — is, in lent, composed of rice boiled 
in almond-milk, which is so very dear, as only to 
be used as a delicacy at the table of the rich; yet 
monks, who, by their vows, are sworn to observe a 
life of poverty and abstinence, think it no sin to 
vie with the rich in delicacies of this kind. Supper 
in lent, or collation as it is called, on account of its 
being something less than ^n ordinary supper, i. e. 
a monk's supper, consists of only one plate of fish 
and some sallad. Monks make a great noise in the 
world about their fasting and abstinence, and about 
the severity with which lent is observed within the 
walls of their convent; but a peep within the scene 
will soon convince any unprejudiced observer, that 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 153 



their fastings, &c. like many other of their prac- 
tices, cannot bear the public eye. They, therefore, 
put on mortified countenances, when they go out, 
and report in every place they visit, that their diet 
in lent is wholly made up of oil and herbs; thus 
adding lying, as they usually do in other things, to 
hypocrisy in this also. So far from the observance 
of lent being considered as a penance, many of them, 
who prefer fish to flesh-meat, long for its arrival, 
being sure of satisfying their desire of eating at 
that time, with more gout^ than at any other season 
of the year. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Effects of bad example — Its effect on the Author's mind — He 
seeks the advice of his Confessor — The Confessor's Apology for 
the vices of his Order — A word of Advice from the same for the 
Author's private use — Tampering vrith the Consciences of others, 
as practised in the Confessional — The Author practises upon his 
Confessor's Advice — Falls into Infidelity — Argues publicly 
against the Existence of God — Becomes an object of suspicion 
to his fellow Monks — Search made in his room for heretical 
Books and Papers — Johnson's Dictionary convicted of Heresy — 
Ordination — Number of Orders in the Romish Church — In what 
the Candidate for Ordination is examined — Character of Mon- 
signor Macioti, Suffragan-Bishop of Villetri — Episcopus in 
partibus. 

In such a school as this, the young monk, just 
freed from the restraint in which he had been held 
during the year of probation, soon learns to forget 
whatever good principles he may have imbibed 
from the precepts, and instruction of his master-no- 
vice. Those instructions, though tending to form 



154 SIX YEARS IN THE 

erroneous ideas of things, and to judge falsely of 
matters bearing a near relation to the good of socie- 
ty, and to his own eternal welfare, were at least 
clothed in the garb of truth, and had the powder of 
restraining him in some degree from open acts of 
impiety. But the evil doings of the other monks, 
their murmurings, their love of defamation, their 
insatiable desire of indulging in sensual gratifica- 
tions, especially in those of the table, and their luke- 
warm, not to call it impious manner, of going 
through the services, which are intended, however 
erroneously, for the worship of God; all these things 
united, soon make him throw aside, as useless, the 
principles of a religious life which he had imbibed, 
and plunge headlong into the vortex of corruption 
and irreligion, in which his fellow-monks are so 
deeply sunk. He may at first, perhaps, take but 
little part in the petty brawls, and quarrels, which 
agitate his brethren, and may be too scrupulous in 
doing gratuitous injury to those from whom he has 
received none; but after some years', nay, months' 
practice, and daily example set him by others, he 
will soon, too soon, take an active part in these 
scenes, and make himself a ring-leader in the prac- 
tice of those very things which at first appeared to 
him so sinful, so disgusting, and so unbecoming the 
character of men who are dedicated to the service 
of God, and to the preaching of his laws to their 
fellow-men. But as a bad tree cannot bring forth 
good fruit, so also monkery, essentially bad in it- 
self, cannot possibly be followed by any other effects 
than what flow from the corrupt fountain of unre- 
strained human passions, and from the practice of a 
false system of religion. 

When first introduced into such scenes as these 
described in the last chapter, I really imagined my- 
self removed into a different sphere of existence al- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 155 

together. I could hardly conceive it possible, that 
men, whose ostensible object in life is the service of 
God, and the edification of God's people, could act 
in a way diametrically opposite to the fulfilment of 
that object. Farther experience soon convinced me 
that God and his service took up the smallest por- 
tion of their thoughts, and that self^ and the gratifi- 
cation of their passions, were the things which each 
and every one had most at heart. I soon became 
convinced, that the religious habit was used as a 
cloak to cover over their detestable vices, and that 
the preaching of God's word, and the administra- 
tion of church rites, were used as instruments, 
through the medium of which they might more 
easily attain their desired ends. In^ place of realising a 
quietj holy, undisturbed life, which I so fondly antici- 
pated, I found that such a life would be more practica- 
ble in the midstof worldly pursuits than in the society 
of monks, and that a religious, serious deportment, so 
far from obtaining for its possessor love, and esteem, 
amongst them would only procure him hatred and ri- 
dicule. Whatmy feelings must have been on thus find- 
ing my long cherished hopes of happiness in the mo- 
nastic life, totally destroyed by becoming practically 
acquainted with that life itself, and how I must have 
regretted the vow, which I had a little before taken, 
of adhering to it for ever, thereby leaving to myself 
no opening for retraction, may be more easily 
imagined than described. I, for a long time, wished 
to persuade myself, so loath was I to be undecei- 
ved, that things which appeared to me evil and in- 
decorous, may be in themselves harmless, or at 
least, indifierent, and that the evil of them consisted 
more in my manner of viewing them than in the 
things viewed. But this deception of my better 
judgment could not last for ever, for the more I ob- 
served them, the stronger grew the opinion of iheir 



156 SIX YEARS IN THE 

being any thing but in accordance with the precepts 
of revealed^ or even of natural religion. I began, 
therefore, to judge more freely of the morals of my 
brethren, and to feel satisfied that their manner of 
living must appear unbecoming and indecorous to 
any one judging it even by the standard of natural 
morality, not to mind the more rigorous standard of 
Divine Revelation. These opinions so long resisted, 
and considered as temptations of the Devil, I now, 
that I could resist them no longer, thought it ad- 
visable to lay before my confessor, whilst seated in 
his tribunal — the confessional, and ask his advice 
thereon. I had not, at this tim.e, entertained the 
smallest doubt of the truth and holiness of all and 
every doctrine of the Church of Rome, nor did it 
once enter my mind, that the course of the evil lives 
of the monks should be attributed to the corrupt 
form of religion which they professed, and of which 
they were the ministers. Had such thoughts occur- 
red, I should have resisted them as temptations 
from the Evil One, indeed. I then little imagined 
that a time would come, when it would please the 
Almighty to dispel darkness from my benighted 
soul, and show me the way in which He loves to be 
worshipped, and from which way no bad effects can 
follow. But this happened many years after. Be- 
lieving, firmly believing, indeed, in the Divine in- 
stitution of auricular confession, as one of the infal- 
lible doctrines of Rome, and convinced that it w*as 
the only safe method by which sinners could be re- 
lieved of their doubts and fears, and that through it 
remission of sins is really obtained, I approached, 
with reverential awe, the judgment seat of the 
priest, having already resolved to make the sins of 
others, and not my own, the subject of my confes- 
sion — to lay before him my thoughts, my opinions, 
my judgment, and my temptations concerning the 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 157 

conduct of the other monks. He heard me very 
patiently to the end, and then replied, ^r.9/, that the 
tribunal of penance was the place for hearing the 
sinner confess the sins committed by himself, and 
not for hearing a sinner accusing fellow sinners of 
sin; *^but/' continued he, "as I have heard you so 
far, and as you have asked my judgment — not opi- 
nion^ (this was said in character,) on the bad cus- 
toms, and evil practices of our brethren, I must 
acknowledge that their general conduct is not in ac- 
cordance with a life of Gospel purity, which their 
sacred character of priests obliges them to attain, 
and that when examined by the standard of Gospel 
morality, it must appear to eyerj observer in the 
same sinful light it has appeared to you. But, dear 
brother, we must consider, that monks are also meriy 
as well as those living in the world, and that he 
*^who goes about like a roaring lion, seeking whom 
he may devour,'^ takes more pleasure in tempting 
them than in tempting others; and that, with- 
drawing from the world, and dedicating themselves 
to the worship of God do not necessarily include a 
freedom from those passions to which all men, more 
or less, are subject. ^^ He finished his apology for 
their vices by a word of advice directed to myself, 
the sum of which was, ''that I should be cautious 
how 1 showed any sign of disgust, or dislike, at the 
conduct of others; and that now was the time, 
whilst young, of conciliating the favour of my bre- 
thren, by overlooking their faults, and charitably 
attributing them to an erroneous judgment, and the 
weakness of human nature, and not to premeditated 
intention of offending God, and injuring their fellow 
men. If I acted otherwise, it would be the cause of 
blighting my future prospects of arriving at any dig- 
nity in the order, and would bring down upon me 
14 



158 SIX YEARS IN THE 

retaliation from the persons whose conduct I took 
the liberty of criticising, which would very proba- 
bly cause me no small share of uneasiness and 
trouble.'^ 

The foregoing is the substance of the advice, as 
far as I can now recollect, which my confessor 
thought it his duty to give me. By it may be seen 
the iniquitous tampering with the consciences of 
others, practised in the confessional, and the settled 
plan of making the fool, who bends his knee to that 
seat of judgment, be reconciled to every practice, 
every open immorality of the clergy. A minister 
of Christ, one too arrogating to himself the represen- 
tation of the person of Christ in his ministerial office, 
making an apology for the vices of his order in the 
very exercise of that office, is in itself horrible; but 
when the same minister, not content to apologise for 
vice, also encourages the person, whom superstition 
and a false notion of religion brought to his knees, in 
order to ask advice for his future conduct; when he en- 
courages and exhorts such a person to conform himself 
to the reigning vices, or at least, to give them his sanc- 
tion by passing them over in silence, under pain of 
injuring his future prospects of aggrandizement, or 
of drawing upon himself and incurring the hatred of 
the evil-doers, when the minister uses his authority 
as representative of Christ in advising — which from 
a confessor is the same as commanding — such abom- 
inable things as these, then indeed it must be mani- 
fest to even the most incredulous, that popish theo- 
ry, as well as practice, is detestable, and that the con- 
fessional, so far from being a place, wherein the sin- 
ner is advised to abstain from sin, is converted in- 
to a place to inculcate the precept oi sinning. This 
assertion will perhaps be denied by a great many un- 
acquainted with the evil tendency of popish inven- 
tions; but let those, who have every day before their 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 159 

eyes the gross immoralities of the Romish hierarchy, 
and who are aware, that such immoralities are the 
effects of theory, speak and deny the truth of it, if 
they can. His apology however for the vices of the 
order did notsatisf}^ me, though I was weak enough 
to put in practice his advice. I began to conform 
myself by degrees to the established customs, and, 
from a disgusted spectator, was in a short time chan- 
ged into an animated actor on the theatre of monk- 
ery. I soon learned to take pleasure in the mis- 
fortune of others, and for self-preservation, to at- 
tack when attacked, calumniate when calumniated, 
thw^art when thwarted, murmur Vv^hen murmur- 
ed against; in fine, I arrived at such perfection in 
the art of tormenting, and in the art of sinning, that 
I very soon became the aggressor, without having 
received any provocation, and was able to beat the 
most experienced among them at their own weapons. 
From this time, I may date my gradual fall into 
infidelity. I first became luke-warm in the dis- 
charge of my religious duties; to this succeeded in- 
difference, and from indifference to infidelity, it is 
well known how easy is the transition. The study 
of philosophy, especially that part of it called meta- 
physics performed an extraordinary change in my 
mind and opinions, and directed my thoughts into a 
channel, in which they were unaccustomed to run. 
Every doctrine, however absurd, every story, how« 
ever insulting to reason and wide of probability 
was swallowed with avidit}?- before, but, now^ I 
took pleasure in examining for myself, and expe- 
rienced great joy, if I could invent some argument 
by which I might be able to prove false or improbable 
some leading doctrine of Christianity. I remember 
to have about this time — the third year of my being 
a monk — argued and proposed objections against 
the existence of God in a public disputation held for 



160 SIX YEARS IN THE 

that purpose, and to have received great applause 
for causing my opponent — the defender of God's ex- 
istence — (whoc by the way, had hardly an ounce 
of brains) — to stumble and be unable to maintain his 
thesis. Though, I prefaced my objections with a 
declaration, that whatever would be brought for- 
ward by me in the heat of argument, if contrary to 
the received doctrine of the church, (in which I am 
a firm believer, I added hypocritically enough,) 
should not be considered as my real opinions, but 
used on the present occasion for the sake of exercise 
in the art of reasoning; I nevertheless received with 
heart-felt delight the applause received from those, 
who saw my stupid adversary unable to confute the 
flimsy and impious sophisms, which I urged against 
his thesis; — against the existence of God.'* I went 
farther; I even wished to persuade myself, that my 
arguments were invincible and unanswerable, and 
that the}^ proved the whole world — from the savage 
to the philosopher — guilty of error, on account of 
giving credit to that, which, indeed, requires a far 
greater degree of credulity, not to believe than to be- 
lieve. Thus, without understanding Christianity, or 
w^ithout knowing more concerning it, than what can 
be picked up at the corrupted fountain of popery, I 
was induced, partly through the scandalous lives of 

* It is lawful to dispute upon every doctrine of Christianity at 
the public schools in Rome, that is, the fundamental doctrines of 
that religion, as the divinity of Christ, the Trinity, the existence of 
God &;c. &c., because such tenets can bear inquiry, and the more 
they are examined, the stronger and firmer vv^ill they become; but 
equal liberty is not granted for disputation upon the peculiar 
doctrines of the church of Rome. Thus, it is unlawful to call into 
dispute the supremacy of the pope, his infallibility, the divine in- 
stitution of the leading doctrines of the church, &c. &,c.; for these 
cannot bear inquiry, and must therefore be believed on the ipse dixit 
of the pope. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 161 

its ministers — the monks — and partly through giv- 
ing unrestrained liberty to my fancy — not reason — 
for of that, I had as little as most modern infidels — 
to deny, first, the doctrines, which are the inven- 
tions of popery, and which, at that time I was unable 
to distinguish from genuine Christianity; and then, 
Christianity itself; having coupled in my own mind 
Christianity and popery — as if the one could not ex- 
ist without the other ! 

About the beginning of the fifth year of my 
monkish life, very strong suspicions began to be en- 
tertained by my brethren, that I was not a firm be- 
liever in the doctrines of the Roman Catholic 
Church. These suspicions were confirmed by an 
outward want of attention on my part to the practice 
and ceremonies of religion asexercised in the convent 
and by many unguarded expressions which I often 
allowed to escape me, whilst in conversation with 
those whom I imagined to be, and who really were, of 
my own opinion. Though all monks, or at least the 
greater part of them, are confirmed infidels, they 
yet have a dislike to those, who outwardly show 
their unbelief; not that they have themselves any 
love for Christianity, but rather because they fear 
that an infidel and unbeliever, who has not prudence 
enough to disguise his real opinions, even in the 
presence of his associates, will not be very zealous 
in propagating the tenets of popery, and in consult- 
ing for the good of the order; the two things 
on which their influence over the minds of the 
people, and the emoluments necessary to their sub- 
sistence depend. 

One of the monks, with whom I had a very close 
friendship, and in whom I placed great confidence, 
informed the superior privately, that I was dissemi- 
nating opinions dangerous to the good of the order, 

14* 



162 SIX TEARS IN THE 

and that I had a great many heretical books in my 
room which he did not understand, but was sure they 
could not he good, because ivritten in English^ and 
also, that I was continually writing and taking ex- 
tracts from the same books, w^hich if brought to light 
and e:^amined b}^ some one acquainted with the 
English language, would place beyond all doubt, my 
having fallen off from a stendy belief in the doc- 
trines of the church. This insidious information in- 
creased the suspicion, which was already but too 
strong against my orthodoxy. Having, however, got 
a hint of it, and suspecting that a search in my room 
for books and papers would follow,! thought it pru- 
dent to convey my books out of the way, and com- 
mit to the flames, my papers, which were chiefly 
taken up with remarks upon monachism, satires 
upon the monks, and extracts from the books I had 
in my possession. I then borrowed from the con- 
vent library four or five feet of theology, two or 
three of councils, as many of morality and nearly a 
yard of legendary lore, lives of saints &c., which I 
conveyed into my room, and with them supplied 
the vacuum left by the removal of my own books. 
The search, as I expected, was made some days after, 
by the professor and local superior, but they could not 
help laughing, when they found nothing but theology, 
morality, metaphysics, legends, lives of saints &c. &c. 
The only book which they made any objection to, and 
which I thought it needless to remove, was a John- 
son^s dictionary. This immediately was accused of 
heresy, and why? Because written in English, and 
because they could not understand it.* Poor Sam- 

* The greatest distrust is held of all English books throughout 
every part of the Roman States. I once had a bundle of " Galig- 
nani's messenger," in my hand, which an English friend had lent 
me, and meeting accidentally with the professor, he asked what it 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 163 

uel Johnson was accordingly seized upon, and 
carried for trial before one of the older monks, who 
had a smattering of English, which he learned from 
some Englishman who kept a shop in Ancona, his 
native town. The old monk putting on his spec- 
tacles writh the air of an inquisitor, examined it here 
and there, and casting his eyes by chance on the 
word "Jesuits,^^ which is dehned by Johnson "a 
body of monks who presume to usurp the name 
of Jesus J ^ he immediately pronounced it heretical. 
It w^as then given over to the superior, and I thought 
he w^as going to commit an auto de fe on it, i. e. 
burn it, but this he did not do; for he only placed 
it under lock and key in the library among the 
" libri prohibitij'^ or prohibited books.* The storm 

was. I told him, it was a bundle of English newspapers. He 
chided me for reading such heretical writings, observing that 
" thonsands of English heretics go to hell every day^'' (vanno alia 
casa del diavolo ogni giorno). So much for monkish bigotry, and 
the effects of the unchristian doctrine of exclusive salvation. 

* In the library of each convent, there is a place set apart for 
prohibited books, or those books which are censured by the master 
of the sacred palace, who is always a Dominican friar. The best 
books of every European language are prohibited, and sentence of 
excommunication passed against all who read them. The titles 
and the names of the authors of such books are collected in one 
volume entitled "index librorum prohibitorum," printed at the 
Vatican press annually, and given away gratis to the different 
libraries of popish Europe. This is also another emolument to 
the papal see, for the librarians and booksellers are commanded 
neither to lend nor sell prohibited works, unless to those who have 
a written license from the pope, to use them. This license is 
never granted till paid for, and thus the obtaining of it becomes a 
source of gain to the " infallible head" of the church. It is really 
astonishing, what a change money is capable of performing! It 
may be asked, whether reading such a book be sinful or other- 
wise; if not sinful, why then place a shackle on man's liberty by 



164 SIX YEARS IN THE 

passed over in this way, and indeed, with far less 
trouble than 1 at first thought it possible, judging 
from the bigotry of the monks and from the great 
pleasure they are accustomed to feel when an op- 
portunity presents of enjoying the misery of others. 
It had even a favourable efi'ect, for, in some de- 
gree, it dissipated the cloud of suspicion, that hung 
over me, and made me more cautious in future, of 
reposing confidence in the seeming friendship of 
those, who only sought an opportunity to betray. 

About this period, I arrived at the age required by 
the canons for receiving the orderof sub-deaconship; 
having already received the four minor orders.* I 
was accordingly sent by the General to Velletri, a 

prohibiting it? if sinful, how is it possible, that the bestowing a sum 
of money on a self-constituted authority, can make it not sinful? 
The reason for this, as well as for most other practices of the church 
of Rome, must be sought in the insatiable desire of amassing 
money by making the consciences of Christians a saleable com- 
modity. 

* It may not be generally known, that in the Roman Catholic 
church, there are seven orders, four of which are called minor 
orders: Osteriatus, Lectoratus, Exorcistatus and Acolytatus. These 
four are conferred at a very early age, sometimes before the candi- 
dates arrive at the age of understanding the meaning of them. 
They are now in practical disuse, being considered as only pre- 
paratory to the receiving of holy orders; though in the ancient 
church, there is reason to suppose, the offices attached to them were 
exercised by some pious laymen of the church. According to 
Romish theologians, they were instituted by Christ himself, and 
as proof of their being so, they distort some passages of Scripture. 
The other three, sub-deaconship, deaconship and priesthood 
are called holy orders. The age at which they may be received 
is fixed by the council of Trent; the first at twenty one years, the 
second at twenty two, and the third at twenty five; though the 
pope has the power of dispensing with eighteen months, of the lat- 
ter, which he generally does, if paid for it. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &:C. 165 

city about twenty six miles from Rome, for the pur- 
pose of having that order conferred upon me by the 
bishop of that diocess. The candidate for ordination 
is very strictly examined in presence of the bishop on 
some treatise of dogmatical theology, selected for the 
occasion by the examiners. This takes place not so 
much for the sake of trying whether he is possessed 
of sufficient information; the ignorant being as 
often promoted to orders as the learned; as, in order 
to be able to judge of the soundness of his views 
relative to the doctrines of the Roman Catholic 
church. The treatise on which I was examined,, 
seemed as if designedly selected for my person, for 
it was that very one, about the truth of which 1 en- 
tertained the greatest doubts — '' the tractatus de ec- 
clesia,^^ or treatise concerning the authority and 
power of the church. The doctrines discussed in 
this treatise being once established on a sure founda- 
tion, all the other unscriptural doctrines of popery 
cannot be denied, without falling into a contradic- 
tion; for if it be once granted, that the church has 
the power of directing and fixing the things neces- 
sary to be believed by the faithful, and of bringing 
in and mixing up tradition with the written Word^ 
and also of explaining that Word itself, in favour 
of some new doctrine; how, then, with any con- 
sistency can any one of its tenets be denied? If it 
be granted with the Italian chureh, that the pope, in 
his own person, is infallible, or with the Gallican 
church, that a council assembled by authority of 
the pope, cannot err; how then can it be denied af- 
terwards, that the things held out for belief, and es- 
tablished by a council or a pope, though in direct 
contradiction to the words and sense of divine reve- 
lation, are not sound doctrines, and not necessary 
to be believed by all, who adhere to the church of 
Christ. If the authority of popes and councils be 



166 SIX YEARS IN THE 

once granted to have its claims founded on scriptural 
grounds, then indeed the belief in purgatory, invo- 
cation of saints, auricular confession, and in all the 
other innovations made in the Christian faith by 
popery, must follow, if due consistency be attended 
to. Though fully aware of the consequences flow- 
ing from the questions proposed to me by the ex- 
aminers on this subject, I yet had the weakness to 
dissemble my real opinions, and answer with the 
most scrupulous orthodoxy — that is, as orthodoxy is 
understood by the Romish church. To this was I 
obliged through fear of being refused ordination, 
if I answered otherwise — a certain result, followed 
also by personal danger — and also through fear of 
afibrding an opportunit}^ to my brother monks of 
renewing their former obloquy. I was, therefore, 
approved of and pronounced by the examiners a 
fit subject for promotion to sub-deaconship, my 
papers being first examined, especially the certifi- 
cate of my baptism, in order to be sure of my hav- 
ing reached the canonical age. 

Not to revert to this subject again, it may be as 
well to mention here, that one year after this, on 
reaching my twenty-second year, I was ordained 
deacon by the same bishop, after having passed 
through another examination, similar to the one re- 
lated above. The treatise selected on this last occa- 
sion was that, which every Italian priest is obliged 
to almost swear to — the treatise on the infallibility 
of the head of the church; as the pope is called. 
This is not pronounced exactly a matter of faith; 
for then provocation would be given to the Galilean 
church, to separate from the Italian, as the former 
does not believe in it; but it is declared a holy and 
wholesome doctrine, and next to faith — proxima fi- 
dei. I answered on this occasion, as on the other, 
according to the known opinion and teaching of the 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 167 

church of Rome, and was so hypocritical as to show 
a holy anger against the boldness of the French, 
who dared call in question a doctrine so holy and 
scriptural. The bishop praised me for my zeal, and 
hoped, that when sent and established in my own 
country, 1 would faithfully preach and propagate 
the doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church, and 
endeavour to bring under the obedience of the su- 
preme pontiff— (,yo//o Pubbedienza del summo pon- 
tejice^ were his words)- — the benighted heretics of 
Ireland, for whose conversion he uttered a fervent 
prayer — more fervently I presume, than they them- 
selves pray for that conversion. Poor heretics! My 
answer to this holy admonition may be easily ima- 
gined, and 1 passed for a pious, orthodox young 
clergyman, and for one, who would be very zealous 
in propagating the doctrines of the Holy Roman 
Catholic Church, So pleased was the bishop w^ith 
my answers, and so well did I act my part, that he 
invited me to dine wnth him the next day — and gave 
me a letter of introduction to Cardinal Rivarola — 
who was a particular friend of his; which I was to 
deliver on my return to Rome. It is but just to 
add, that Monsignor Macioti, for that was the name 
of the bishop of whom I am speaking — was a really 
good and pious man; and seemed sincere in his be- 
lief of the doctrines of the church of Rome, and 
firmly convinced that a belief in those doctrines was 
most essential to the salvation of m.an. He was 
bishop in partibus injidelium^ and only suffragan- 

* Episcopus in partibus infidelium, or bishop in infidel countries, 
is a title given by the pope to the numerous bishops without diocesses, 
who surround his throne. Whenever the pope wishes to exalt and 
do honour to a favourite; or when a priest of a rich and noble 
family is fool enough to throw away a large sum of money for a 
dignity, he is consecrated bishop of some place, taken at hazard 



168 SIX YEARS IN THE 

bishop of Velletri. The diocesan bishop, who was 
a cardinal, always residing in Rome, left him as his 
suffragan in care of the diocess; and on him, there- 
lore, devolved the whole management of the affairs 
relating to the church of Velletri and its dependen- 
cies. He had very little of that pride and vain 
glory, which are to be found the principal ingre- 
dients in forming the character of moFt popish pre- 
lates. He was an humble, practical Christian, and 
if we except his bigotry, which was more the fault 
of the religion he professed, than of the man him- 
self, he could have been held up as a shining exam- 
ple for the imitation of the ministers of Christ. 
Had he lived in another country, or had he been so 
fortunate as to see the errors of popery, he would 
certainly be considered as one blessed with an abund- 
ant share of heavenly grace. Unlike most Italian 
prelates, he spent his income on the poor of his 
flock, and not in indulging in the pleasures of the 
table, and other luxuries. Whilst other bishops 
might be found at the conversazioni and entertain- 
ments of the great, or gallanting, in the character 
of cicesbei, the wives of their acquaintances, his 
post was at the bed-side of some dying beggar; en- 
deavouring to alleviate his sufferings, and adminis- 
tering the consolations, which religion, however cor- 

from the map of the world, over which the pope, as universal pastor, 
claims authority. Thus, one is made bishop of some of the South 
Sea Islands, whilst another obtains a diocess in Crim Tartary. 
They never see their diocesses, nor do they ever trouble their heads 
about them; some of them often not knowing in what part of the 
world the place from which they take their title is situated ! They 
bargained for the empty title, and that they have got — il fumo senza 
I'arrosto — the smoke without the roast — as the Italian proverb has 
it. The pope thus bestowing bishopricks on his courtiers strongly 
resembles the valorous knight Don Quixote bestowing the govern- 
ment of islands on his Squire Sancho Panza. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALV, &C. 169 

rupt it may be, always aflfords to the last moments of 
a departing sinner. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Jealousies, and enmities of Monks of different orders — Reasons for 
entertaining such hostile feelings against each other — Sample 
of monkish lampoons — The immaculate conception of the Bless- 
ed Virgin — The Dominicans and Franciscans declare war 
against each other — Monkish imposture — Tragic story of Jet- 
zer — The Ghost of a Dominican appears to him — Jetzer under- 
goes the discipline, in order to redeem his brother's soul from 
Purgatory — The Virgin Prior — Revelations made by the Virgin 
to Jetzer — He receives the five Avounds that pierced Jesus on 
the Cross — Jetzer discovers the imposture — The Dominicans 
attempt to poison him — He flies from them, and seeks the pro- 
tection of the civil authorities — The actors in the infernal plot 
burned alive — Jetzer's death — The use which the Franciscans 
make of the foregoing Narrative — Number of religious Orders 
How distinguished from each other — Division of Monks — Num- 
ber of the Clergy in the capital of Popery — Number of Beggars. 

Though great the enmities and jealousies en- 
tertained for each other by monks living in the same 
convent and of the same order, far greater still are 
those they bear towards other monks of orders dif- 
fering from their own. The greatest enemies of the 
same order, who would be glad to see each other at 
the bottom of the sea, forget their private quarrels, 
and unite their strength in attacking the common 
enemy — another religious order. To this they are 
excited both by the prejudices of their monkish edu- 
cation, which leads them to consider their own or- 
der as the one most pleasing to God, and also, by a 
fear of losing their emoluments, and the means of 
15 



170 SIX YEARS IN THE 

supporting luxury, if another order should rank 
higher in the opinion of the world than their own. 
Monks of different orders can hardly observe the 
rules of common politeness, and keep themselves 
within the bounds of civility w^hen they meet. They 
eye each other with looks of mortal defiance, and 
let no opportunity slip of heaping calumny on each 
other, and of turning into ridicule the manners and 
customs of each other's order. If the Franciscan 
should have an image, or relic, in his convent, which 
is thought an object of greater veneration by the peo- 
ple, than some other relic, or image, of the Domini- 
cans, the latter never loses an opportunity of cry- 
ing down the worth of the former's property and 
extolling his own. It is a common saying, '* two of 
a trade can never agree." This proverb is verified 
by those traders in imposition. The Augustinian 
hates the Carmelite, the Carmelite the Augustinian, 
the Augustinian the Dominican and the Franciscan; 
one branch of the Franciscans hates another branch 
of the same, the Reformed hating the Capuchin, and 
the Capuchin the Observant, and in this way they 
live, hating each other, and trying to debase each 
other's order, w^hilst they extol their own, and all 
for the sake of bringing money into their own cof- 
fers, and of making the people imagine that there 
can be no degree of merit attached to any order, but 
to that of which they themselves are members. 
When this opinion once prevails, and gains ground 
in the minds of the people, then indeed those who 
were so fortunate as to establish and propagate it, 
may triumph over the other orders, and may be sure 
of obtaining that support which follows from the 
blind devotion of a superstitious peasantry. Many 
monks are so zealous in contending for the good of 
their own order, that they make no scruple to com- 
pose satires, and even obscene hymns against the 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 171 

other orders, and distribute copies of them privately 
among the people; for they imagine, that the more 
the other orders are lessened in the esteem of the 
populace, the more will their own grow in that es- 
teem. I have seen a "prayer^^^ composed in Latin 
by a Dominican Friar, in order to turn into ridicule, 
and bring opprobrium on the Capuchins, who had a 
convent in the same town, (Albano,) and who ranked 
higher in the opinion of the public than his own or- 
der. It was handed about by the Dominicans, and 
at last reached the hands of a secular priest, w^ho had 
a friendship for the Capuchins, and by him it was 
shown to their superior, who complained against the 
author to the court of Rome. As far as I can now 
recollect, for I have not by me a copy of it, it ran 
thus: " Deus, qui malignos Capuchinos in hoc mun- 
do scaturire fecisti ad destructionem mulierum, olei, 
vini, panis, cseterorumque tuorum comestibilium, 
extende super eos, te quesumus, manum tuas poten- 
ti«, da illis morbum Gallicum, et deduc eos in pro^ 
fundum lacum, ubi remaneant per omnia saecula 
saeculorum. Amen.^^ — (0 G — d, who hast made 
the malignant Capuchins spring up in this world, 
for the destruction of women, bread, oil, wine, and 
of thy other eatables; extend over them, we be- 
seech thee, the hand of thy power, give them the 
* * * disease, and sink them into the deep lake, 
where may they remain for ever and ever. Amen.) 
1 have deemed it necessary to give this blasphe- 
mous prayer^highly blasphemous indeed — in or- 
der that the reader may be able to form a judgment 
of the wicked devices which monks have recourse 
to when the desire of aggrandizing their own order, 
and of bringing it into repute, impels them to ridi- 
cule, and thereby debase, (though often at the ex- 
pense of truth, and of doing injury to their fellow 
creatures,) the orders of other monks. It also may 



172 SIX YEARS IN THE 

show the little veneration in which God is held by 
them, when they dare take in vain His name, and 
apply it in so unseemly a manner. It is true, that 
the Capuchins, and indeed all monks, give sufficient 
provocation to wish them badly; and to endeavour, 
for the sake of society, to expose their evil doings, 
but yet, this need not be done in the blasphemous 
manner which we see here practised; and practised 
too by those who are as deep in iniquity as the very 
persons whom they censure. 

The well known dispute between the Dominicans 
and Franciscans relating to the immaculate concept 
Hon of the Virgin Mary, was carried on by these 
two orders, for many years, with an equal degree of 
vehemence on both sides. The question, uninte- 
resting as it may appear, and as it really is, ^' whe- 
ther the Virgin Mary was born without the blemish 
of original sin, or not, employed the pens and ta- 
lents of the greatest men of these orders for many 
years, and bid fair to disturb the peace, not only of 
the members of each order, but also of the whole 
Roman Catholic church. No arguments were left 
untried, no schemes were left unpractised, by the 
contending parties, to prove one another guilty of 
heresy, and thereby to bring on the conquered side 
the opprobrium attached to the name of heretics. It 
is not to be supposed that they cared a fig whether 
the Virgin was, or was not, immaculately born; but 
the question was started, a difierent side was taken 
by each, and the honor of their respective orders, 
and the maintenance of its respect with the people, 
required that each party should defend, with all its 
might, the side of the question it had adopted. The 
tragic story of Jetzer, conducted at Bern, in 1509, 
for determining this uninteresting dispute, is well 
known to the world. I shall, however, take the 
liberty of relating it here, in order to give the read- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 173 

er who may not have heard it before a view of the 
impious frauds which have been carried on in the 
church of Rome, and of the little regard which 
monks pay to the means so that they obtain their 
end. 

The Franciscans maintained that the Virgin Mary- 
was born without the blemish of original sin; the 
Dominicans asserted the contrary. The doctrine 
of the Franiscans in an age of darkness and supersti- 
tion, could not but be popular, and hence the Domi- 
nicans lost ground from day to day. To support 
the credit of their order, they resolved at a chapter 
held at Vimpson, in the year 1504, to have recourse 
to fictitious visions and dreams, in which the people 
at that time had an easy faith, and they determined 
to make Bern the scene of their operations. A lay- 
monk named Jetzer, who was extremely simple, 
and much inclined to austerities, and who belonged 
to their order, was chosen as the instrument of the 
delusions they were contriving. One of the four 
Dominicans, who had undertaken the management 
of this plot, conveyed himself secretly intoJetzer^s 
cell, and about midnight appeared to him in a hor- 
rid figure, surrounded with howling dogs, and 
seemed to blow fire from his nostrils, by the means 
of a box of combustibles, which he held near his 
mouth. In this frightful form, he approached Jet- 
zer^s bed, told him, that he was the ghost of a Do- 
minican, who had been killed at Paris, as a judgment 
of Heaven for laying aside his monastic habit; that 
he w^as condemned to purgatory for this crime; ad- 
ding, at the same time, that by his means, he might 
be rescued from his misery, which was beyond ex- 
pression. This story accompanied by horrible cries 
and bowlings frightened poor Jetzer out of the little 
wits he had, and engaged him to promise to do what 
was in his power, to deliver the Dominican from his 

15^ 



174 SIX YEARS IN THE 

torments. Upon this, the impostor told him, that 
nothing but the most extraordinary mortifications, 
such as the discipline of the whip^ performed du- 
ring eight days by the whole monastery, and Jet- 
zer's lying prostrate in the form of one crucified, in 
the chapel during mass, could contribute to his de- 
liverance. He added, that the performance of these 
mortifications would draw down upon Jetzer the 
peculiar protection of the blessed Virgin, and con- 
cluded by saying, that he would appear to him 
again, accompanied by two other spirits. Morning 
no sooner came than Jetzer gave an account of 
this apparition to the rest of the convent, who all 
unanimously advised him to undergo the discipline 
that was enjoined him, and every one consented to 
bear his share of the task imposed — that of flogging 
thepoor wretch. The deluded simpleton obeyed, and 
was admired as a saint by the multitudes, that crowd- 
ed about the convent, whilst the four friars, that con- 
ducted the imposture, magnified, in a most pompous 
manner the miracle of this apparition in theirsermons 
and in their discourses. The night after the apparition 
was renewed with the addition of twoimpostors,dress- 
ed like devils, and Jetzer's faith was augmented by 
hearing from the spectre all the secrets of his life and 
thoughts, which the impostors had learned from his 
confessor. In this and some subsequent scenes, 
equal in enormity to those already related, the im- 
postor talked much to Jetzer of the Dominican or- 
der, which he said was peculiarly dear to the Bless- 
ed Virgin; he added, that the Virgin knew herself 
to be conceived in original sin; that the doctors who 
taught the contrary were in purgatory; that the 
Blessed Virgin abhorred the Franciscans for making 
her equal with her son; and that the town of Bern 
would be destroyed for harbouring such plagues 
within her walls. In one of these apparitions, Jet- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 175 

zer imagined that the voice of the spectre resembled 
that of the prior of the convent, and he was not mis- 
taken; but not suspecting a fraud, he gave little at- 
tention to this. The prior appeared in various 
forms, sometimes in that of St. Barbara; at others in 
that of St. Bernard: at length he assumed that of the 
Virgin Mary, and, for that purpose, clothed himself 
in the habits that were employed to adorn the 
statue of the Virgin on the great festivals. The little 
images, that on those days, are set on the altars, were 
made use of for angels, which, being tied to a cord 
that passed through a pully over Jetzer's head, rose 
up and down, and danced around the pretended Vir- 
gin, to increase the delusion. The Virgin, thus 
equipped, addressed a long discourse to Jetzer, in 
which, among other things, she told him that she was 
conceived in original sin, though she had remained 
but a short time under that blemish. She gave him 
as a miraculous proof of her presence a host or con- 
secrated wafer, wich turned from white to red in a 
moment; and after various visits, in which the great- 
est enormities were transacted, the Virgin prior told 
Jetzer, that she would give him the most affecting 
and undoubted marks of her son's love, by imprint- 
ing on him Xhefive wounds, that pierced Jesus on 
the cross, as she had done before to St. Lucia and 
St. Catharine. Accordingly, she took his hand by 
force, and struck^ large nail through it, which threw 
the poor dupe into the greatest torment. The next 
night, this masculine virgin brought, as she pretend- 
ed, some of the linen in which Christ had been bu- 
ried, to soften the wound; and gave Jetzer a sopori- 
fic draught, which had in it the blood of an unbap- 
tized child, some grains of incense and of consecra- 
ted salt, some quicksilver, the hair of the eyebrows 
of a child, all which, with some stupifying and poi- 
sonous ingredients, were mingled together by the 
prior with magic ceremonies, and a solemn dedica- 



176 SIX YEARS IN THE 

tion of himself to Ibe devil in hope of his succour. 
The draught threw the poor wretch into a sort of le- 
thargy, during which the monks imprinted on his 
body the other four wounds of Christ in a manner 
that he felt no pain. When he awakened he found, 
to his unspeakable joy, those impressions on his body, 
and came at last to fancy himself a representative of 
Christ in the various parts of his passion. He was, 
in this state, exposed to the admiring multitude on 
the principal altar of the convent, to the great morti- 
fication of the Franciscans. The Dominicans gave 
him some other draughts, that threw him into con- 
vulsions. By means of a pipe placed in the mouths 
of two images, one of Mary, and another of the child 
Jesus; the former of which had tears painted upon 
its cheeks in a lively manner, they contrived to 
make the two images speak. The little Jesus asked 
its mother, by means of this voice (which was that of 
the prior) why she wept? and she answered, that 
her tears were owing to the impious manner in which 
the Franciscans attributed to her the honour that 
was due to him, in saying, that she was conceived 
and born without sin. 

The apparitions, false progidies, and abominable 
stratagems of these Dominicans were repeated every" 
night; and the matter was at length so grossly over- 
acted, that, simple as Jetzer was, he at last disco- 
vered it, and had almost killed the prior, who ap- 
peared to him one night in the form of the Virgin 
with a crown on her head. The Domiinicans, fear- 
ing, by this discovery, to lose the fruits of their im- 
posture, thought the best method would be to own 
the whole matter to Jetzer and to engage him, by the 
most seducing promises of opulence and glory, to 
carry on the cheat. Jetzer was persuaded, or at least 
appeared to be so. But the Dominicans, suspecting 
that he was not entirely gained over, resolved to poi- 
son him; but his constitution was so vigorous, that 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 177 

though they gave him poison five several times, he 
was not destroyed by it. One day they sent him a 
loaf prepared with some spices, which growing 
green in a day or two, he threw a piece of it to some 
dogs that were in the monastery, and it killed them 
immediately. At another time, they poisoned the 
host, or consecrated wafer; but as he vomited it up 
soon after he had swallowed it, he escaped once 
more. In short, there were*no means of securing 
him, which the most detestable impiety and barbari- 
ty could invent, which they did not put in practice; 
till finding, at last, an opportunity of getting out of 
the convent, he threw himself into the hands of the 
magistrates, to whom he made a full discovery of 
this infernal plot. The affair being brought to Rome, 
commissaries were sent from tlience to examine the 
matter; and the whole cheat being fully proved, the 
four friars weresolemnlv degraded from their priest- 
hood, and were burnt alive on the last day of May, 
1509. Jetzer died some time after, at Constance, 
having poisoned himself, as was believed by some. 
Had his life been taken away before he had an op- 
portunity of making the discovery already men- 
tioned, this execrable and horrid plot, which, in many 
of its circumstances, was conducted with art, would 
have been handed down to posterity as a stupendous 
miracle — It is now related by the Franciscans to 
their novices and students, in order to excite their 
hatred against the Dominicans, and to be used as an 
argument in favor of the immaculate conception, 
which they so zealously defend. They sa}^ " that 
such a well-laid plot could never be discovered, 
were it not for the intervention of the Virgin, whose 
prerogative it attempted to impugn, and thereby les- 
sen the praise and adoration due to her from the 
faithful; that she permitted it to proceed so far pros- 
perously, in order to take a signal and public ven- 



178 SIX YEARS IN THE 

geance on the machinators, and that through her pro- 
tection Jetzer was preserved from the powerful poi- 
sonous draughts, which were so often administered 
to him by his impious brethren.'^* 

The great number of religious orders, that infest 
society, and the immense number of individuals at- 
tached to each order, surpass almost all belief. These 
orders are distinguished from each other by the co- 
lour and form of the'ir respective habits. Some 
monks wear a white habit; others, a black one; this 
order is clad in a brown livery, w^hilst that other, in 
a gray or parti-coloured one. Some have shoes and 
stockings, whilst others place merit in going about 
in sandals, and without stockings. I am not aware, 
that any order as j^'et has placed merit in wearing 
boots; but the tim^e may come, when the pope will 
put his seal of holiness on boots also! Some orders 
allow their beards to grow, and shave their heads in 
imitation of the ancient- Magi, whom they much re- 
semble in their impositions; whilst others, on the 
contrary, shave their beards and let the hair of their 
head grow. Monks are also divided into three different 
classes. The first class, is that oi solitaries^ who live 
alone, and are to be found only among the Calogeri,or 
Greek monks, especially those inhabiting Mount 
Athos, in Thessaly, called in modern Greek, '' o^ot 
ayiog^^^ or the happy mountain. The Latin church 
says, that the Trappists, lienedictines, Camaldolen- 
sains, &c., are of the class of solitaries; but if they 

* It ought to be understood, that I have followed, with very few 
variations, the narrative given by Buck, in his "Theological Dic- 
tionary," of the above event. It so exactly accords with the ac- 
count given by the Franciscans, and with what I have read in 
other books, that I deemed it needless to make many variations^ 
which, indeed, if made, would consist more in the manner of 
relating it than in the fact itself* 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 179 

are. they must be so, as "lucus a noQ lucendo/' for 
they are to be found in the most populous cities of 
Europe, and very frequently in the coffee-houses, 
and other public places, disputing upon politics, or 
pla3Mng cards. This does not look very much like 
the life of a solitary! The second class is called 
that of coenohiteSj or those living in community, as 
Franciscans, Capuchins, Dominicans, Carmelites, &c. 
These are the bulwarks of the Romish church, and 
on them the pope chiefly depends for upholding his 
assumed authority. The third class is that of scar a- 
biteSj who have no fixed residence, but, after the 
manner of Mahometan Santonin whom they much 
resemble, wander through the world, leading a gyp- 
sical life, and depending upon their success in impo- 
sing on the people, for support. To this class St. 
Francis belonged, as has been already related, be- 
fore he acquired tact enough to impose effectually on 
the people, and afterwards on the pope himself, by 
which he succeeded in establishing the order, which 
goes under his name. 

At Rome, especially, are to be found monks of 
all classes and descriptions, and in such numbers, 
that the stranger will be struck with astonishment, 
and wonder where, or how, so great an army of 
idle, sanctified, dronish vagabonds can find support. 
An English gentleman, residing in that city, wish- 
ing to make a probable guess at the number of clerg}^, 
with which it is pestered, placed himself in a win- 
dow looking out upon the Corso — the principal 
street — and counted the surprising number of one 
hundred passing by, and strolling about for their di- 
version, in the space of fifteen minutes. If to this 
be added the nuns, who would also be strolling about 
in the street at that time, if they had their own will, 
that is, if they were not inhumanly buried alive, 
and shut up within four walls, we may form a to- 



180 SIX YEARS IN THE 

lerably just idea of the whole number. Would it 
be too much to say, that they amount in all to six 
thousand? 1 think not, and even hazard to say that 
they rather exceed than fall short of that number! 
Six thousand drones depending for support, on a po- 
pulation of one hundred and thirty thousand, for the 
fixed inhabitants of Rome, do not, absolutely, exceed 
that number! In winter, certainly, the population is 
greater; but then, the increase is occasioned by the 
foreigners, who arrive from other parts of Europe, 
and who scarcely ever remain longer than three 
months. If to the six thousand monks, nuns, and 
secular priests, we add five thousand more for beg- 
gars, we will then find, that in the capital of pope- 
ry, there are eleven thousand useless inhabitants! 
Eleven thousand mouths, stopped by the sweat of 
the industrious part of the community! eleven thou- 
sand persons whose only office is imposition, rob- 
bing and begging, and who fully come up to Ho- 
race's description ^of useless creatures, '^nati consu- 
mere fruges," "born to waste the fruits of the earth'* 
— to eat every thing up. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 181 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Hope of salvation placed in being buried in a Franciscan habit — 
Story of a soul saved from eternal damnation through the merits 
of Saint Francis — Emoluments derived by the monks from the 
popular superstitions — Story of an heir, vrho was struck dead for 
defrauding the Franciscans of their due — Ways practised by 
monks for promoting their own interests — Their tampering with 
the females of those families, over which they have acquired in- 
fluence — Story in illustration of the foregoing — Allurements held 
out to females to enter Nunneries — Monkish treachery illustra- 
ted — A young gentleman's own account of the snares laid by 
monks for himself, and his sisters — One of his sisters dies of a 
broken heart, on discovering her mistake — Happy termination 
of the young man's misfortunes. 

No small degree of merit is also attached by the 
benighted followers of popery, to dying and being 
buried in a religious habit. This proceeds from the 
sermons of the monks, and from their gossipping 
among the peasantry and others. Instead of direct- 
ing sinners to salvation through Christ, and exhort- 
ing them to have a firm reliance upon the vicarious 
atonement made by Him; their favourite theme is, 
^Hhe interest which their sanctified founder has in 
heaven, and the respect paid by the D — 1 to a body 
dressed up in the habit of the order founded by 
him — (St. Francis) — though, perhaps the former 
might justly claim the honour of having suggested 
it. This respect for their habit is the source of 
great emolument to them, as many who led a life of 
debauchery and wickedness, and many too, who led 
a comparatively virtuous life, leave by their will, a 
sum of money to that body of monks, on whose 
masses and prayers they rest their hopes of salva- 
16 



182 SIX YEARS IN THE 

tion. The Franciscan habit is held in greater esteem, 
and consequently is thouglit to have more power of 
defending the soul from the claws of his infernal 
majesty, than any other. It is^ therefore, sought af- 
ter with great eagerness, and that man is thought 
sure of salvation, who is so fortunate, as to leave this 
world, covered up in its sacred folds. Many sto- 
ries are invented by the monks, many fables are 
brought forward as examples, by which to pro^ve, 
how acceptable and pleasing to the Supreme Being 
is this soul-destroying superstition. From an im- 
mense number, one, if possible more absurd than 
the other, I will select a few for the satisfaction of 
the reader. 

An Italian count, who, whilst in health, was the 
most wicked and depraved of all his associates, be- 
ing at the point of death, entreated his confessor, a 
Franciscan monk — to have his body wrapped up af- 
ter his decease, in the blessed habit of St. Francis, 
and in that dress, to be committed to the grave. 
The confessor, after administering the consolations 
of religion, and after explaining to him the great 
benefit, which would accrue to his soul from the pro- 
tection of St. Francis, always partial to those clad 
in his holy habit, promised to use his influence 
with the prior of his convent, to obtain the power 
of complying with his request. This power was 
speedily granted; chiefly, it may be suspected, be- 
cause the dying man had left money for the celebra- 
tion of masses — as auxiliaries in saving his soul — 
for indeed monks are not so excessively charitable 
to the souls of others, as to be at any loss, even that 
of a filthy, worn old habit— (for the longer it is 
worn by some holy monk, the greater efficacy is at- 
tached to it,) without being paid for their trouble 
and loss, in some way. Having obtained from his 
superior the desired permission, he returned to the 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 183 

sick man, and filled his soul with joy and gladness, 
whilst relating ihe favourable result of his mission. 
The poor sinner, placing all his trust and hopes of 
salvation on the holy habit, peaceably expired soon 
after. Some days after his decease, he appeared to 
his confessor, whilst engaged in prayer at midnight 
in the church, and revealed to him, that "he was on 
the point of being condemned to the flames of hell, 
for all eternity, and that the Demon-executioners 
were in the act of seizing upon his miserable soul, 
in order to drag it to the place of punishment, when 
the blessed patriarch St. Francis made his appear- 
ance, and observing what was going on, prostrated 
himself at the throne of justice, and begged, that 
through his merits^ and intercession, the soul, whose 
body was clad in his holy habit, and who had, whilst 
united to it, befriended his beloved disciples in the 
other world, may not suffer for all eternity. The 
Supreme Judge, looking with compassion on the tears 
of his faithful servant, and unable to resist his en- 
treaties, commuted the sentence to a million of years 
in purgatory; with the clause of being sooner libe- 
rated, if a sufficient number of masses be celebrated 
for the repose of his soul. The holy St. Francis, 
having thus succeeded in his business of mediator, 
immediately drove away the D — Is, now become en- 
raged on account of losing their prey, and conduct- 
ed the half-redeemed soul to purgatory, where he 
took leave of it, after having first obtained permis- 
sion from the angel-keeper, to allow it to ascend 
once more into the world above, and relate the whole 
affair to his confessor, and request of him to speak 
to his son and heir, and urge him to give a part of 
his fortune to be laid out on more masses for the re- 
pose of his father's soul." Having made this rela- 
tion, the holy soul redeemed from everlasting tor- 



184 SIX YEARS IN THE 

ments by the habit of St, Fi^ancis^ disappeared and 
returned to its place of temporary punishment. 

Will it be tliought possible, that such a story as 
this, such a bare-faced, impious falsehood — could be 
introduced into a sermon by any Christian minister? 
To those unacquainted with the extent of monkish 
impostures, it will, indeed, appear, if not impossible, 
at least improbable; yet 1 have both read it in 5ome 
legend of saints, and heard it afterwards related in 
the Capuchin church of Frascati, in presence of an 
assembled multitude. The life of St. Francis formed 
the subject of the sermon, and the foregoing story 
w^as brought forward in proof of that Saint's power, 
in the court of the Almighty. It is evidently in- 
vented for the purpose of increasing and strengthen- 
ing the popular belief in the sanctity of the Fran- 
ciscan habit; and of showing forth the great help 
for obtaining salvation and appeasing the Divine 
, wrath which that habit affords to those, who de- 
part this life clad in its sacred folds. The ap- 
parition being made to declare the good effects to 
the souls in purgatory, proceeding from offering 
masses in their behalf, and his own expectations from 
the piety of his son, is but a Jesuitical way of pick- 
ing the pockets of the hearers, and of exciting them 
to spend more money on the celebration of masses, 
for the repose of the souls of their departed friends. 
It may also be a plan, (if, indeed, the story has any 
foundation whatever in truth,) for extorting more 
money from the Count's son, by thus laying open 
to him the miserable state of Iiis father, and the 
means of shortening the time of his punishment in 
purgatory. 

There is another story related by the monks, vic- 
ing with the former in absurdity, though probably 
invented for the purpose of deterring the heirs of 
those that bequeath legacies to the order, from with- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 185 

holding what the testator thought proper to be- 
stow. 

A nobleman of the republic of Genoa, long before 
it fell under the tyrannical power of his Sardinian 
majesty, was most dev^otedly attached to the Fran- 
ciscan order, and bestowed upon it many substantial 
marks of his favour during life. At his death he 
bequeathed a large sum of money, to be used in 
paying for masses, to be celebrated for the repose 
of his soul, by the monks of his favourite order. 
His son, a dissolute young man, refused to comply 
with the last wishes of his defunct father, and con- 
verted to other uses the money designed for the 
celebration of the masses. After some time, the fa- 
ther appeared to his unworthy son, enveloped in 
flames of fire, and, with an angry countenance, 
threatened him with instant death, unless he imme- 
diately delivered up to the monks the money which 
he had bequeathed for their use, telling him, at the 
same time, that '' he was tormented by the most ex- 
cruciating pains of hell, on account of his avarice 
and disobedience; for if he, his heir, had complied 
in fulfilling his last will, and if he had given up to 
the possession of those for whom it was intended, 
that part of his fortune he had willed to them, the 
suffrages and prayers of the monks would be of the 
greatest avail in redeeming his soul from the tor- 
menting state in which it was now placed.'^ He fur- 
ther added, '^ that the habit of St. Francis, in which 
he was buried, was of no avail whatever, because his 
son had not given to the holy fraternitj^ to which it 
belonged, what was lawfully their due, and that St. 
Francis, far from looking upon him with a favoura- 
ble and protecting eye, only regarded him with an- 
ger, and had his body stripped of the holy habit, 
immediately after it was consigned to the tomb.'' 
The spectre-father then disappeared, and left his son 

16* 



186 SIX YEARS IN THE 

in the deepest consternation, and fully resolved to 
make amends for his evil and unjust conduct. But 
this resolution was but momentary, and again he en- 
gaged in evil courses with his wicked companions, to 
whom he related the occurrence, and who laughed 
him out of his fright, whilst squandering the property 
to which he became heir. One night, after returning 
from a carousal, in which he spent the greater part of 
the day witli his vicious companions, he retired to his 
chamber in a state of intoxication. The following 
morning, on his servant's entering his room to assist 
him as he was wont to do, in dressing, he found him 
stretched at full length on the floor, a lifeless corpse. 
It was supposed that his father appeared to him 
again, and, angry at his continuing to withhold the 
money from the Franciscans, and thereby depriving 
him of the benefit of their prayers and masses — the 
only means of relieving him from torment — he had 
struck him dead, in order to make him serve as a 
future example to undutiful heirs, and of the sure 
punishment awaiting such, even in this world. This 
supposition was confirmed afterwards, when on open- 
ing the father's grave for the purpose of depositing 
at his side the body of the son, the former's corpse 
was found stark-naked. This being seen by one of 
the son's companions, who attended the funeral, it 
immediately brought to his recollection the story 
related to him by the son, some time before his death, 
and more especially that part of it connected with 
the father's declaring that "his body was despoiled 
of the habit, in which he was buried, by order of St. 
Francis." He confessed the whole affair publicly, 
and in presence of all those attending the funeral, 
and becoming convinced of the dangerous state in 
which he was placed by his evil course of life, he 
retired from the world altogether, and dedicated 
himself to God, under the banner of St. Francis. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 187 

The young man dying without issue, the property 
was applied for the redemption of the souls of its 
former owners from the torments which they were, 
most probably, suffering; the part bequeathed by the 
father's will, being first given up to the Franciscans, 
according to the primitive intention of the testator, 
and the rest divided among the other regular and se- 
cular clergy of the city, as a compensation for their 
prayers and masses. J\or did the miracle stop 
here. The Lord wished publicly to show to his 
faithful people how much He was pleased with 
the forementioned distribution of the property. A 
holy hermit was directed to go to the bishop of 
Genoa, and signify that it was the Lord's wish, 
that the graves of the father and son should be 
again opened. The bishop obeyed the Lord's mes- 
sage, and accompanied by the clergy and laity of the 
city, in procession, proceeded to open the graves. 
The body of the father was found incorrupt, cover- 
ed with a sweet-scented liquor, and again clad in 
the habit of St. Francis, by the same invisible agency 
it had been before stripped of it; whilst that of the 
son was found putrid, and fast dwindling into disso- 
lution. The former's body was removed and de- 
posited under the altar of the Franciscan church at 
Genoa, where it is kept to this day, as a lasting 
memorial of the power of St. Francis, and of the 
good efiects following fiom being buried in his ha- 
bit, and from the prayers and suffrages of his holy 
disciples (especially when they are paid for them, 
some heretic will add!) and of the terrible punish- 
ment awaiting those that dare defraud them of any 
part of that which the Almighty inspired the minds 
of departing sinners to bequeath them. 

The above story is its own comment. I shall not 
add a single word to the bare narrative, but leave the 
reader to make his own reflections upon it; only re- 
marking, that it is by such means that monasteries 



188 SIX YEARS IN THE 

acquire their riches. If, however, a church that gives 
countenance to such absurdities be infallible, thank 
God, there are few infallible churches in the world. 

Besides the fables and stories invented for the 
purpose of increasing the popular veneration for 
those things to which they attribute miraculous 
power, and which fables they are not ashamed to 
relate publicly in their pulpit, thus converting the 
temple of God into a place for promoting their own 
worldly views, they have also other vvays, by wh^h 
they arrive at the same end — ^.ways, indeed, more 
slow than the former, but yet more sure. The old 
monks, especially, are appointed to the exercise of 
them, as being supposed to have arrived at perfec- 
tion by long practice in the arts of monkery. These 
ways chiefly consist in wheedling themselves into 
the bosom of families, and having acquiied a degree 
of footing in them, and become master of their se- 
crets, either through the organ of confession, or by 
the incautious relations of the heads of the families 
themselves, and not unfrequently, by that of tattling 
servants, they take their own measures, and convert 
every circumstance to further the end, never lost 
sight of — the advantage of themselves and of their 
order. 

The females belonging to such families are more 
especially those upon whose weak and uneducated 
minds — nearly all Italian women are miserably un- 
educated — they make the greatest impression. To 
these they relate the wonders and miracles perform- 
ed by their order, and by its founder; the power 
granted from Heaven to all those clad in their ha- 
bit; the very great benefits, temporal as well as spi- 
ritual, accruing to believers from the prayers and 
suffrages of the monks; and the exceedingly great 
happiness of having St. Francis, and his beatified 
followers interceding for departed souls at the throne 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY; &C. 189 

of the Almighty. If these females be mothers of 
families, they will endeavour to instil into the minds 
of their children the same notions of monkish sanc- 
tity vvitli which their own minds are imbued, and 
thus the monks find the rising generation as willing 
to be duped, and to be subservient to their im- 
positions, as their fathers and mothers were be- 
fore them. If the family with which a monk has 
succeeded to ingratiate himself, be in opulent cir- 
cumstances — and monks seldom bait their hooks for 
any others — then the merit to be obtained by giving 
money for the celebration of masses, or for buying 
clothes for the decoration of the image of the Ma- 
donna, or for singing an office for the repose of the 
soul of some departed relative or friend; the merit 
to be obtained by things of this description is laid 
open by him in a most forcible light, and seldom 
fails of bringing money into the coffers of the con- 
vent. If the wife should have any cause, either real 
or imaginary, to complain of her husband, or the 
husband of his wife, to whom else could either of 
them reveal, with more propriety, the domestic 
brawl than to the man ofGod? — as the favoured monk 
is styled. And does the man of God endeavour to 
restore peace and mutual confidence again to this 
divided family? If it answer his ends, that is, if it 
be for the good of himself and of his order, he en- 
deavours to do so; for if both husband and wife be 
equally blind and attached to the order, he finds it 
more his interest to have them reconciled than at 
variance. But if, on the contrary, one should be 
inimical to the order, and the other friendly to it, he 
is very sure, and it is a part of his tact, to endeavour 
to widen the breach; for he can gain more by their 
dissension than by their harmony. The wife is the 
one on whom he more especially depends for the 
success of his designs, as the husband, in most cases, 



190 SIX YEARS IN THE 

barely tolerates his visits, and would wish to see both 
him and his convent, (which, perhaps, at the coffee- 
house, among his companions, he calls by its right 
name — a den for knaves — ) at the bottom of the sea. 
The monk is not so stupid as not to perceive the 
dislike in which the husband holds him and his or- 
der, and if it be ever in his power, he does not for- 
get it towards him. He, however, has the wife still 
to work upon; and she, on her part, finds him a 
ready listener whilst she relates the faults and fail- 
ing of her husband. Instances are not wanting of 
whole families turned topsy-turvy through the 
meddling of monks in their private concerns; for, 
instead of being blessed peace-makers, the effects 
following their mediations prove them to be accurs- 
ed sowers of dissensions. Wives at variance with 
their husbands have been frequently found to have 
made away with the substance and properties of the 
same, and to have bestowed them upon their advi- 
sers, the monks; and all this, by the encourage- 
ment and exhortation of the monks themselves. 

In illustration of the evil effects which usually at- 
tend the meddling of friars in family concerns, and 
of the wicked use which they make of the influence 
gained over the minds of the female members of 
such families, I shall mention a circumstance relat- 
ed to me by a gentleman whom I met at Corfu. 

There lived in the town of Macerata situated in 
the March of Ancona, and about fifty miles from the 
city of Ancona itself, a newly married couple, of the 
name of Riezzi; well to do in the world, Riezzi 
himself being a public notary of some estimation in 
the town. His wife was foolishly attached to a con- 
vent of Franciscan monks, who had chosen that 
city as a place for carrying on their impostures, and 
who realized considerable incomes, from the super- 
stition of the people. Her more particular favourite 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 191 

was her confessor, the superior of the forementioned 
convent, and with him she spent more time, than in 
the company of her husband. The latter on the 
other hand, could barely tolerate the visits and in- 
trusions of the monks, into his house, and privately 
told his wife, that he would be better pleased, if she 
made less freedom, with them. This was the cause 
of a contention between them, which afterwards 
broke out into an open rupture. The wife com- 
plained to her confessor, that she was badly treated 
by her husband, chiefly on account of her endea- 
vouring to work out her salvation by adhering 
to the advice, and practising the directions laid 
down by him, in his capacity of minister of Christ. 
She then enumerated many of the bad qualities of 
her husband, and among others, did not forget to 
mention the command received from him of break- 
ing off her acquaintance with himself, and with those 
of his order. The hatred which the husband had for 
those of his convent, and consequently for himself, 
had not escaped the observation of the perfidious con- 
fessor, and he therefore lent a willing ear to this con- 
firmation of what he had already observed. By his 
advice, his penitent, the wife, continued in her usu- 
al routine of confessions, communions, fasting &c., 
and in giving whatever she could pilfer privately 
from her husband to the community of which he 
himself was head. The friars now abstained from 
their accustomed visits to his house, but to be re- 
.venged for his casting them off, they took every op- 
portunity which presented, of speaking badly of him 
in their visits to other houses, and of representing 
him as a man of no religion, and as one infected 
with the principles of free-masonry, which at that 
time, as well as now, were fast spreading through 
the Roman States. The poor man, by reason of 
such insinuations and such reports, found himself 



192 SIX YEARS IN THE 

by degrees, losing his extensive practice, and looked 
upon with suspicion by his fellow-townsmen; be- 
sides being under the close surveillance of Ihe 
police. He suspected, that his wife had a hand in 
raising this storm, through the agency of the monks 
to whom she had complained against him. He ac- 
cused her of it, and she, far from denying having 
had part in it, even gloried in her own shame, and 
plainly told him, that the duty she owed to God was 
of greater importance, than that she owed to her 
husband, and therefore her duty to God had 
prompted her to resist his attempts at vviihdrawing 
from her the advice and directions of God's minis- 
ters. On this, words rose high between them, and 
from words, the husband proceeded to violence, and 
gave her a blow, which stretched her lifeless on the 
floor. Fearing he had killed her, he thouii!;ht it best 
to consult for his own safety, by a hasty flight, and 
thus make his escape from the hands of justice. He 
immediately fled from his house, taking with him, 
whatever, at that moment, he could lay hands upon, 
but knowing how difficult it would be to elude the 
searches of those, w^ho would be sent in pursuit of 
him, he deemed it expedient to unite himself with 
the insurgent army, who were about that time, to 
march from Bologna towards Rome, in order to lake 
possession of the latter city, and free their country 
from papal bondage. 

At Civita Castellano, he distinguished himself by 
his bravery, and perseverance in attacking that for- 
tress, which impeded the further progress of the 
brave and talented insurgents.* The expedition 

* The insurrection, which in the year 1831, broke out in the 
Roman States, was planned and perfected wholly in Bologna. The 
chief leaders of it were medical and legal students in that city. 
Indeed all, who were tired, and wearied out with monks, priests, 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 193 

entirely failing, and being forced to retire on the ap- 
proach of the Austrians, who were sent for by the 
pope to help him to tyrannize over his unfortunate 
subjects, he, with many others fled towards the 
sea-coast, and seizing upon a fishing smack that was 
drawn up on the beach, put to sea and steered for 
Corfu which island they reached after a passage often 
days, during which they suffered great privations, 
not having had time to provide themselves with 
sufficient provisions; and they would certainly have 
died of starvation, had they not fortunately fallen in 
with a Maltese vessel, which took them aboard and 
landed them safely in their place of destination. At 
Corfu, I became acquainted with Signor Riezzi, and 
from his own mouth, I learned the circumstance, 
which I have now related. He further informed 
me, that his wife recovered soon after his departure, 
and following the advice of the monks, laid infor- 
mation against him before the prefect of the police, 
who immediately dispatched his myrmidons in pur- 
suit. His property was afterward confiscated, and 
she turned into the streets, without the means of 
subsistence — a punishment she well merited for her 
perfidious and unbecoming conduct. 

If a monk obtain footing in a rich family, where 
there are young vv^omen, daughters, his first care 
will be to endeavour to weaken their afiections for 



and friars; all, who had sense enough to see into the impositions 
practised in order to uphold the papal power; even many of the 
secular and regular clergy, who esteemed the common good of 
greater importance than their own individual interest, were all and 
every one of them united in the common cause and bound them- 
selves hy a sacred oath, to use all the means in their powor to free 
their country even at the hazard of their own lives and fortunes. 
They richly deserve then the epithet of ^^ brave and talented in- 
surgents,''^ 

17 • 



1 94 SIX YEARS IN THE 

their parents and kindred; and to fix them upon 
something, by which he and his order might be be- 
nefitted. He opens his attack upon the daughters 
of his host by a long detail of the happiness to be 
found in the monastic state, and the very high pri- 
vileges enjoyed by those, who are so fortunate as to 
become the spouses of Jesus Christ — the blasphe- 
mous title, which they give to nuns.* This is his 
favorite topic, especially when some of the young 
women are present, though he does not direct his 
discourse immediately to them; for the better to suc- 
ceed in his purpose, which is manifestly that of en- 
ticing them into a convent, he appears not even to 
be conscious of their presence. He therefore ad- 
dresses wholly his discourse to the mother, or to 
some other tartuffish old woman, who may be pre- 
sent. He knows well enough, that his discourse 
will not be thrown away, for either it will have the 
desired effect immediately on the minds of those, for 
whom it is intended; or will be repeated, after his 
departure, by the mother or aunt or by some other 
woman, who was listening to it, and thus at length 
will be deeply fixed on the minds of the young 
women. If he be the confessor of young women of 



* It is a remarkable coincidence, that to nearly all the Hindoo 
temples are attached numbers of females, who are openly prostitu- 
ted to the base desires of the priests, and of those, who frequent the 
temples. These women, like the nuns of the Romish church, are 
said to be spouse of the god. Query — Are not both employed for 
the same purpose — the gratification of the desires of their infa- 
mous priests ? The more popery is examined, the more striking 
will her relationship to all the false religions, ancient and modern, 
appear. Her peculiarities and practices, are evidently the same 
with those of paganism, and the doctrines of both lead to the sai^e 
end, and have the same object in view — the destruction of sotds, 
and the private advantage of their ministers. 



MONASTERIES OP ITALY, &C. 195 

this description, he will then have a favorable op- 
portunity of working upon their minds, and of en- 
trapping them into a compliance with his wishes. 
Whilst seated in the confessional, with his victims on 
their knees before him, he can very easily, under 
the form of advice and instruction, lay open to them 
the difficulty of saving their souls in the married 
state; the dangers and temptations of the world, the 
troubles and hardships, which they will have to en- 
dure for their husbands and children, and — in fine, 
he can represent every thing in the worst light, 
which the young women, if left to their own unpre- 
judiced judgment, would consider as the necessary 
attendants on the lot of human nature. On the other 
hand, he paints in most enticing colors, the peace 
and calm, to be found in the state of a nun; the fa- 
cilities held forth by that state for holding a closer 
communion with God; the protection and interces- 
sion of the deceased holy nuns, who walked before 
them in the same road to salvation; the harmony 
and sisterly love, which reign among the holy vir- 
gins dedicated to God, and the honor of becoming a 
spouse of Jesus Christ; all and every one of these 
will be painted by him in the most glowing colors, 
and insensibly make an impression on the minds of 
his unsuspecting victims, till at last they consent to 
become self-murderers, and to bury themselves alive 
in the convent of some sisterhood, of which their 
confessor, or the monks of his order have the gov- 
ernment. After the fatal step, they soon become 
aware of the deception practised upon them by their 
wily confessor, and clearly see, in a short time that 
their fortunes and not their persons were longed 
for by the nuns of the convent, into which they 
were so unfortunate as to enter. Their life will 
become miserable and they will spend it in cur- 



196 SIX YEARS IN THE 

sing their unhappy fate, and in cursing the perfi- 
dy of the villain — -for so they will call him — who 
taking advantage of their inexperience and simplici- 
ty, led them by his advice and counsels, in order to 
advance his own private interests, to sacrifice them- 
selves at the shrine of a monstrous and unnatural su- 
perstition. Every thing will be found quite contra- 
ry to what they were led to expect, and from what 
it was represented to them; they will find neither 
peace, happiness nor religion, and instead of experi- 
encing the sweet calm and contentment of those, 
who have placed their affections on the things, which 
this world cannot bestow, they will experience the 
torment of desires, which they are obliged to re- 
press, or, at least conceal, of disappointment, and of 
despair. Let it not be supposed, that this picture 
of a nun's life is too highly coloured; and that the 
description I have given of it surpasses, in any way, 
the truth. Let those that imagine so, onlyjexamine for 
themselves, and without trusting to the opinion of 
others, let them take a view of human nature, as it 
exists, under their own actual observation, and if 
they continue in opposing the truth of the above pic- 
ture, then indeed their eyes must have lost their na- 
tural force, and become incapable of performing 
what they were designed for — to help the judgment 
in forming just notions of things. 

It is not to be supposed, that monks go to this 
trouble of inveigling young women into nunneries, 
thereby bringing down upon themselves the curses 
of those, upon whom they succeed, without having 
some other object in view, besides the gratuitous plea- 
sure of rendering others miserable. Although they 
derive no little pleasure, even from this fiendish in- 
dulgence, they yet have a more substantial object 
also in view — even that of obtaining a part of the 
young woman's fortune, which she takes with her 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 197 

to the nunnery, and gives up to the disposal of her 
future sisters. The monks, like recruiting sergeants, 
who get so much a head for the men, whom they 
bring to join the military service, have also their 
head-money for every young lady of fortune, that 
they entrap into a nunnery. They are also the go- 
vernors of the nunneries, and all money matters, and 
affairs relating to its interests are transacted by them. 
The richer, then, the nunnery is, the more opportu- 
nities will they have of pilfering it, and of convert- 
ing the surplus revenues to their own private use, 
or to that of the convent, to which they belong. The 
desire of enriching themselves, seems to be the main 
spring of their treachery; and all the delusive arts, 
which they practise for the purpose of working 
upon the minds of the simple and confiding, seem di- 
rected to the accomplishment of that great end. 

A young gentleman, whose sister was inveigled 
into a convent by the persuasions and maneuvres of 
a monk, her confessor, and who was obliged to flee 
from Italy, himself, on account of joining the Bolog- 
nese insurgents, related to me at Corfu, his place of 
refuge, and mine also indeed, the following story. 
It will illustrate, and give an example of the manner 
in which monks act, in order to draw young women 
of property under their control. I shall relate it 
in his own words. 

" My father was a goldsmith in Senegaglia, 
and acquired a handsome independence by his 
industry and success in trade. 1 had two sis- 
ters, one older and the other younger than my- 
self. My older sister was married, whilst yet 
very young, to one of her own equals, my father 
being able to give her a considerable dowry. She 
also, before her marriage, was besieged by the arts 
and stratagems of the monks, who endeavoured to 
persuade her to become a nun, but being naturally 
17* 



198 SIX YEARS IN THE 

of a strong mind, she was able to see into their de- 
signs, and to evade the snares that were laid for her 
happiness. Ishould have told you, that my father was 
very intimate with monks of the Dominican order, 
who had a convent in our town. These were frequent 
visiters at his house and table, and seemed to have 
acquired a considerable influence over him. His 
table, his money, his interest, every thing he had, 
was at their service, whilst they, on their part, 
wished to repay his kindness, by marking out his 
three children for their victims. The marriage of 
my elder sister did not in the least discourage them 
in their attempts, though her fortune was considered 
a serious loss; for they congratulated themselves on 
the fair field they had for enticing her into a con- 
vent, and thereby gaining possession of it. They 
now exerted themselves with renewed vigour in 
working on the minds of the remaining two, myself 
and my younger sister. As for me, they were al- 
most sure, I showed such a docile, flexible disposi- 
tion, that 1 could be easily prevailed upon to em- 
brace their order, and enrich the convent with the 
property, which my father, at his death, would be- 
queath me. Nor did they give up their hopes of my 
coming to that determination, when 1 was removed 
to Bologna, by my father's orders, to prepare my- 
self for the medical profession. They followed me 
there by letters, and gave notice to their fellow-Do- 
minicans in Bologna, that 1 was game worth chas- 
ing, and that they should endeavour to ingratiate 
themselves into rry favor; as the property, which I 
was heir to, would be of great advantage to the whole 
Dominican order. 

'• I was hardly well set down at Bologna, when I 
found my acquaintance eagerly sought after by the 
monks. I was pressed to accept of invitations to 
dinners, festivals, and other things of this kind, al- 
most every day by them, and when I did accept 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 199 

them, I was treated with the g;reatest respect, placed 
at the head of the table, and flattered in the most 
fulsome manner. They never ceased speaking be- 
fore me of the happiness to be enjoyed in the 
monastic life, and how far superior that life is to a 
secular, and how much better to enjoy the sweet 
calm and tranquillity of a monastery, than be tossed 
about and harassed by the turmoils of the world. 
They certainly were making strong impressions on 
my mind, and would have succeeded in bringing me 
over to their wishes, had not a conversation, which I 
accidentally overheard between the prior and an- 
other friar, opened my e3^es to their designs. Visit- 
ing the convent one evening, when 1 was not 
expected, I heard my own name frequently repeated 
by two, who seemed deeply engaged in conversa- 
tion. Curiosity prompted me to listen more atten- 
tively, when I discovered that their conversation 
was about myself, and that the final attack in per- 
suading me should be made in a few days. I could 
also discover, from their conversation, that my sister 
had consented to become a Dominican nun, and that 
my father had already given his consent. I retired 
from the convent without being seen by any one, 
and immediately wrote a letter to my father, ac- 
quainting him with what I had overheard, and en- 
treating him to retract the consent, he had given, 
of having my unfortunate sister buried alive. 1 
afterwards learned, that my sister, after my de- 
parture, being left alone, and having no one to 
direct her, gave herself up wholly to the guidance 
of the monks, and they at last succeeded in pre- 
vailing upon her to enter a nunnery. She re- 
mained firm in her intention, and having received 
her portion from my father, she settled it on the 
convent, and took the veil. After her solemn pro- 
fession, she became more fully acquainted with mo- 



200 SIX YEARS IN THE 

nachism, which soon brought on grief and disap- 
ffointment. These soon preyed on her spirits and 
produced a slow decline of which she soon after 
died, cursing with her latest breath the perfidy of 
the villains, who had worked on her weak mind, in 
order to get possession of her fortune, by enticing 
her into a convent. 1 became after this so disgusted, 
so enraged against the monks, that I refused having 
any more connection with them, and even refused 
them admittance to my lodgingsj when they came 
for the purpose of seeing me. They, on the other 
hand, finding that they had lost their influence over 
me, wrote many letters to my father, wherein they 
were not ashamed to give utterance to many false- 
hoods relating to my conduct at the university, by 
which they hoped to prejudice my father against 
me. My father himself, after a short time becom- 
ing conscious of the scheme which was laid for en- 
trapping his fortune and his children, took no notice 
of their calumnies, and even advised me, not to have 
any thing to do with them and not to pay any atten- 
tion either to their advice or themselves. I believe, 
he repented of being so easily duped in my sister's 
case, and forbade his former friends, the Dominicans, 
his house after my sister's death. I myself joined 
the insurgents at Bologna, and now, through the mis- 
carriage of our glorious expedition, am, like your- 
self, (meaning me) indebted to a foreign land for 
protection. My father is still living and remits me 
money, when he can do it,without running the risk of 
being discovered. I myself am outlawed, but my 
father assures me, that he will come and settle in 
Co^rfia, as soon as he can dispose of his property.'^ 
Here my friend finished his narrative. I have giv- 
en it, to thebest of my recollection, in his own words, 
and I consider it a striking example of the perfidy 
and chicanery of monks in their attempts to enrich 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &:C. 201 

themselves at the expense of the happiness of others, 
whether males, or females. The reader will be 
pleased to learn, that the father of the above soon af- 
ter arrived in Corfu, having disposed of his proper- 
ty in Senegaglia, and lives there now contented in 
the society of his son. 



CHAPTER XX. 

Adoration and prayers to Saints — Confirmed by the Council of Trent 
— 'Absurdity of that Doctrine — Image-worship— Papists really 
and truly idolaters — How they excuse themselves — Adoration of 
* the statue of Saint Januarius at Naples — Blasphemous prayer 
addressed to Jesus Christ by the Neapolitans — Idol- worship prac- 
tised by all false Religions — Modern Greeks and Romans inex. 
cusable — .History of the rise and progress of image-worship in 
the church of Christ — Image- worship abhorred by the Primitive 
church — Opinions of some of the early Fathers on that subject 
— Images of Saints admitted as ornaments in the Churches in 
the beginning of the fifth Century — Gregory the Great condemns 
image-worship — The monks of the eighth century establish image- 
worship by their own example — Edict of Leo, the Isaurian, con- 
cerning images — The Priests and Monks excite the people to 
rebellion, in consequence of it — Leo orders all images to be pub* 
licly burnt — Image-worship favoured by Popes — Iconoclastae, and 
IconolatraB— Charlemagne declares against image-worsnip— Claui 
dius, bishop of Turin, orders all images to be cast out of the 
Churches— Image-worship established by law in the eastern and 
western Churches, and triumphs, till the era of the Reformation 
— Effects of the reformation on image- worship. 

The invocation of saints; that is, the adoration 
of, and prayers to, the saints, is a favourite doctrine 
of the church of Rome. The council of Trent ex- 
pressly teaches; "that the saints reigning with Christ 



202 SIX YEAKS IN THE 

in Heaven, offer up and present prayers to God for 
men, and that those, who pray to the saints for their 
intercession, may expect to have their prayers to 
God heard with more attention. Though these are 
not the precise words of the council on the article 
of invocation of saints, yet, it is manifest, that such 
is the meaning of them, and that a belief in the help 
afforded by saints to their fellow sinners in obtain- 
ing salvation, is intended to be established by them. 
This doctrine is so contrary to Scripture, and to com- 
mon sense, that no one, who has for a moment ex- 
amined it, can think seriously of setting it down as 
an article of the Christian faith; naj^, he will imme- 
diately perceive, that it is one of those monstrous, 
absurd doctrines, with which the Romish church has 
darkened the clear atmosphere of genuine Christi- 
anity. The Scriptural arguments by which it is pro- 
ved heretical and erroneous, are numerous and un- 
answerable; but as bringing them forward in this 
work, might be deemed unnecessary, and superflu- 
ous, I shall on that account, omit them. It is a doc- 
trine also, directly contrary to common sense; for 
it supposes the omnipresence of finite and limited 
beings, and their being able to hear and attend to, 
at one and the same time, prayers offered up to them 
in different parts of the world— in China and Ire- 
land, Rome and Madrid. This being the attribute 
of God alone, it cannot then be applied to one of 
his creatures without derogating from His honour, 
and robbing Him of one of his attributes. If it be 
denied, that such a supposition is made; how then, 
it may be asked, can the saints hear the requests, 
and prayers offered up to them, if they be not near? 
If they have not the power of hearing such prayers; 
how then can they attend to them, and intercede 
with God in favour of the petitioners. It is clear 
therefore; that addressing prayers and petitions to 



MONASTERIES OP ITALY, &C. 203 

such powerless gods — for gods they really are made 
— is inconsistent with common sense, and unworthy 
of a judicious mind. 

From this erroneous doctrine of the invocation of 
saints, flow the adoration and worship paid to ima- 
ges, pictures and relics. This adoration, however 
it may be excused and got over by the advocates of 
popery, is certainly in itseU positive Idolatry/. Idola- 
try is theact of ascribing to things and persons proper- 
ties which are peculiar to God alone. When the 
papist ascribes to a certain image, or to a certain 
picture situated in a certain part of the world, the 
power of healing the sick, of granting miraculous 
favours, of protecting from pestilence, shipwrecks, 
&c., does he not ascribe to inanimate, dead, and 
senseless things properties peculiar to God alone? 
Is he not then acting the idolater? When he bows 
down to, and worships such an image, or such a pic- 
ture, for the sake of propitiating it in his favour; is 
he not then acting idolatrously? And granting, that 
he adores, worships, and prays to — not the stone or 
canvass, of which the idol or picture is composed — 
though ninety-nine out of a hundred saint-worship- 
pers really imagine, that the idol itself has the power 
of granting him his petitions, and adores it with the 
greatest sincerity accordingly, for if such an idea 
did not exist, why would there be a distinction made 
between the image of a saint, situated in one place, 
and that in another? — even granting that he prays 
to and adores the person represented by such a pic- 
ture or image; is he on that account free from the 
crime of idolatry? I should think not; whereas he 
gives that adoratoin to a creature, which is due to 
God alone, and attributes to the same creature a 
power, which, if he really possessed it, he would 
be no longer a creature. Nor will it lessen the ob- 
jection to say, that the creature prayed to, is now a 



204 SIX YEARS IN THE 

sanctified person and enjoying the favour of God, 
and therefore, that prayers are offered to him for 
the purpose of imploring his intercession at the 
throne of the Almighty. This excuse, even if it 
were true, which it is not, as all will confess, who 
have fully examined the subject, would be of no 
avail, for it would still remain to be accounted for, 
upon what authority another mediator between 
God and man, besides the man Christ Jesus, was 
set up, contrary to the express words of Scripture. 
Besides, in soliciting the mediation of that creature, 
the creature itself is adored and worshipped; but he 
who worships or adores a creature is an idolater; 
ergo, it is certain, that all saint-adorers, and saint- 
worshippers are idolaters. But so far from the de- 
votees of saints praying for their intercession, and 
protection, the)^, for the most part, are confident, 
that the saints themselves have the immediate power 
of granting them their request, and therefore, pray 
to them accordingly, without even once thinking of 
God, or that He alone has the power of satisfying 
them. This is fully proved by the practices of the 
people in those countries, where saint-worship and 
idolatry is established by law, under the name of 
Christianity. Their curses, and even their blessings 
are always invoked in the name of some saint. "Che 
vi venga la maledizione di San Francesco;'^ or "la 
Madonna vi ajuti.'^ — (The curse of St. Francis on 
you: may the Virgin Mary be your guide)— are fre- 
quent forms of prayer or malediction, in the mouth 
of every Italian. In Naples, as remarkable for the 
bhrine of St. Januarius, as for the Volcano of Vesu- 
vius, whose eruptions are kept in order — so the peo- 
ple believe, and so the priests of his temple preach — 
by his blood contained in a vial, it is no uncommon 
thing to hear the following blasphemous prayer: "O 
Gesu Christo, prega, ti pregiamo, a san Gennaro a 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 205 

far un miracolo;'^ or, "pregalo a concederci questo 
favorer'^ (0 Jesus Christ, we pray Thee to pray St. 
Januarius to perform a miracle, or pray him to grant 
us this favour, &c.) Thus St. Januarius is placed 
above Jesus Christ, and the latter is only prayed to 
for his intercession with the former to perform a 
miracle, or to grant favours!! This is the common 
people's belief; and even if such preposterous lan- 
guage he rejected and condemned by the more en- 
lightened, it nevertheless shows the tendency which 
saint-worship, and images have to make the greater 
part of the people, really and truly idolaters. Its 
being so glaringly blasphemous, is the reason why 
it is rejected, at least in part, by the enlightened 
part of the citizens; but 1 am much mistaken, if 
they do not worship and adore the golden image of 
their saint,'* though in another way, and in differ- 
ent words, wMth more confidence and devotion, than 
they approach in prayer the Lord and Giver of life; 
so that these also, justly come under the hateful, an- 
ti-christian name of "Idolaters.'' 

It is remarkable that all false religions have the 
worship of images, more or less, embodied among 
their other erroneous notions of the adoration due to 
the Supreme Being. The early history of all ages, 
and of all people, fully proves the truth of this ob- 
servation. From the unpolished and uncivilized 

* The image of St. Januarius, as it stands in the cathedral 
church of Naples, is of solid silver, washed over with gold. The 
head and face are wholly of the latter metal. The Neapolitan La- 
zaroni, when they pray before this image, address it with the great- 
est freedom, and ask its aid in being able to escape detection from 
some crime, which they propose committing. They generally call 
this saint by the familiar title of "/«ccia gialliccia^'' or yellow face, 
(his face being of gold,) and promise him so many wax candles, if 
they succeed in their undertaking. If they do not, they thretaen 
to pull his beard, which, by the way, is also of gold. 
IS 



206 SIX YEARS IN THE 

South Sea savages, to the cultivated and polite 
Greeks and Romans, not less the fathers of the arts 
and sciences than the Chaldeans, Phoenicians, and 
Egyptians themselves; for the former improved and 
perfected what the latter handed down to them; all 
and every one of these nations went after and adored 
gods made with their own hands; idolatry being a 
religion more adapted to the bent which men have 
towards visible and sensible objects. Men want 
gods who shall go before them, and be amongst 
them, because God, who is every where in power, 
and no where in appearance, is hard to be conceived 
without the light of divine illumination. How^ever 
excusable, then, these may be in their erroneous no- 
tions of the worship suited to a spiritual and unseen 
God, because not favoured with that light, the mod- 
ern Romans have only the excuse, that they are led 
by their priests to imitate their pagan ancestors in 
their love of idols, and who corrupt the word of God, 
impiously corrupt it, in order to make it speak in fa- 
vour of their idolatry, or, when this is impossible, 
to make it, at least, pass over in silence that abomi- 
nable crime. For this reason many texts of scrip- 
ture are tortured into a sense quite different from 
their real significations, while others are either left 
out entirely, or mutilated, as has been done with the 
second commandment — whereby w^e are command- 
ed neither to make nor bow down to a graven im.age, 
or to the likeness of any creature. And here it may 
not be deemed foreign to our subject to give a suc- 
cinct account of the rise and progress of image-wor- 
ship in the church of Christ. I do it the more will- 
ingly, as it will give the reader an idea of the hor- 
ror, and detestation, in which idolatry was held by 
the primitive church, and of the opposition it nict 
with, and the bloodshed it caused, before it was 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 207 

finally established, and engrafted on the pure stock 
of genuine Chrislianit3^ 

It is plain from tiie practice of the primitive 
church, recorded by the earlier fathers, that Chris- 
tians, during the first three centuries, and the great- 
er part of the fourth, neither worshipped images, nor 
used them in their worship. However, the gene- 
rality of popish divines maintain that the use and 
worship of images are as ancient as the Christian re- 
ligion itself. To prove this, they bring forward a 
decree, said to have been made in a council held by 
the apostles at Antioch, commanding the faithful, 
that they may not err about the object of their ^vor- 
ship, to make images of Christ and worship them. 
This decree is mentioned by Cardinal Baronius in 
his Ecclesiastical Annals, under the year of our 
Lord 102; but it is strange that no notice is taken of 
it till seven hundred years after the apostolic times, 
after the dispute about images had commenced. The 
first instance that occurs, in any credible author, of 
images among Christians, is that recorded by Ter- 
tuliian, (De Pudicitia, cap. 10,) of certain cups, or 
chalices, on which was represented the parable of 
the good shepherd carrying the lost sheep on his 
shoulders: but this instance only proves that the 
church, at that time, did not think emblematical 
figures unlawful ornaments of chalices. Another in- 
stance is taken from Eusebius, (Ecclesiastical His- 
tory, lib. vii. cap. 18.) who says, that in his time, 
(he lived in the beginning of the fourth century,) 
there were to be seen two brass statues in the city 
of Paneas, or Caesarea Philippi, the one of a woman 
on her knees, w^ith her arm stretched out, the other 
of a man over against her, with his hand extended 
to receive her. These statues were said to be the 
images of our Saviour, and the woman whom he 
cured of an issue of blood. From the foot of the 



208 SIX YEARS IN THE 

statue representing our Saviour, he relates that there 
sprung up an exotic plant, which, as soon as it grew 
to the height of touching the border of his garment, 
was said to cure all sorts of distempers. The histo- 
rian, however, vouches none of these things; nay, he 
supposes, that the woman who erected this statue of 
our Saviour was a pagan, and ascribes it to a pagan 
custom. This supposition is very reasonable, for it 
is very probable that the woman who erected it, was 
herself afflicted with an issue of blood and, hearing 
from some Christians, perhaps, that the God whom 
they worshipped, formerly cured a woman afflicted 
with it, she also, hoping the same effect, and imita- 
ting the customs of paganism, erected this statue to 
conciliate the favour of the Christians' God. It is 
highly improbable then, that the Christians would 
adore an image set up by the superstition of a pagan 
woman, for though that image may even represent 
the God of their own worship, yet it was always 
brass, or some other matter, which they abhorred to 
worship. The primitive Christians abstained from 
the worship of images, not, as the Papists pretend, 
from tenderness to heathen idolaters, but because 
they thought it unlawful in itself to make any image 
of the Deity. Tertullian, Clemens Alexandrinus, 
and Origen, were of opinion, that, by the second 
commandment, painting and engraving were unlaw- 
ful to a Christian, styling them evil and wicked arts. 
(Tert. De Idolatria, cap. 3. Clem. Alex. Admoni- 
tiones ad Gentes, p. 41. Origen contra Celsum. 
lib. vi. p. 182.) 

The uses of images in churches, as ornaments, 
were first introduced by some Christians in Spain, 
in the beginning of the fourth century; but the prac- 
tice was condemned as a dangerous innovation^ 
in a council held at Eliberis, in 305. The custom 
of admitting pictures of saints and martyrs into 



MONASTERIES OE ITALY, &C. 209 

churches, (for this was the first source of image- 
worship,) was rare in the end of the fourth century, 
but became common in the fifth. But they were 
still considered only as ornaments, and even in this 
view, as shall be shown in the sequel, they met with 
very considerable opposition. In the following cen- 
tury the. custom of thus adornino; churches became 
almost universal, both in the east and west. Peta- 
vius expressly says, (De Incarnatione, lib. xv. cap. 
14,) that no statues were yet allowed in the churches, 
because they bore too near a resemblance to the 
idols of the Gentiles. Towards the close of the 
fourth, or beginning of the fifth century, images, 
which were introduced by way of ornament, and 
then used as an aid to devotion, began to be actually 
worshipped. However, it continued to be the doc- 
trine of the church in the sixth, and in the beginning 
of the seventh centuries, that images Were to be used 
only as helps to devotion, and not as objects of wor- 
ship. The worship of them was condemned, in the 
strongest terms, by Gregory the Great, as appears 
by two of his letters written in 601. From this 
time to the beginning of the eighth century, there 
occurs no instance of any worship given, or all5wed 
to be given, to images, by any council or assembly 
of bishops whatever. But they were commonly 
worshipped by the monks, and populace, in the be- 
ginning of the eighth century; insomuch that, in 
726, when Leo, the Isaurian, published his famous 
edict, image-worship had already spread into all the 
provinces subject to the empire. 

Leo's edict was occasioned by the disturbances 
which broke out in his reign about the worship of 
images. By it he abrogated, according to some, the 
worship of images altogether, and ordered all the 
images, except that of Christ's crucifixion, to be re- 
moved from the churches; but, according to others, 
IS* 



210 SIX YEARS IN THE 

this edict only prohibited the paying to them any 
kind of adoration or worship. The tumults excited 
by the contending parties in favour and against 
image-worship, w^as the cause of the revolution 
which deprived Leo's predecessor, Bardanes, of 
the imperial throne in 713. The edict published 
by Leo himself, in 726, which we have mention- 
ed before, occasioned also a civil war, which broke 
out in the islands of the Archipelago, and by 
the suggestions of the priests and monks, ravag- 
ed a great part of Asia, and afterwards reached 
Italy. The civil commotions and insurrections in 
Italy were chiefly promoted by the Roman pon- 
tiffs, Gregory I, and II. Leo was excommuni- 
cated; and his subjects, in the Italian provinces, vio- 
lated their allegiance, and rising in arms, either mas- 
sacred or banished all the emperor's deputies ami 
officers. In consequence of these proceedings, Leo 
assembled a council at Constantinople, in 730, which 
degraded Germanus, bishop of that city, who was 
a patron of images; and he ordered all the images 
to be publicly burnt, and inflicted a variety of pun- 
ishments upon such as were attached to that idola- 
trous worship. Hence arose two factions, one of 
which adopted the adoration and worship of images, 
and on that account were called iconolatrse^ or 
image-adorers, (from «tx% an image, and xarpsysjVj 
to adore;) and the other maintained that such wor- 
ship was unlawful, and that nothing was more wor- 
thy of the zeal of Christians than to demolish and 
destroy those statues and pictures which were the 
occasion of this gross idolatry, and hence they were 
distinguished by the title o{ iconoclast se^ or image- 
breakers, (from «X'3«'v, an image, and xXacrTstVj to 
break.) The zeal of Gregory II, in favour of image- 
worship, was not only imitated, but even surpassed 
by his successor, Gregory III, in consequence of 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 211 



which the Italian provinces were torn from the Gre- 
cian empire. Constantine, called Copronymus, in 
764, convened a council at Constantinople, regard- 
ed by the Greeks as the seventh oecumenical coun- 
cil, which solemnly condemned the worship and 
usage of images. Those who, notwithstanding the 
decree of the council, raised commotions in the 
state, were severely punished, and new laws were 
enacted to set bounds to the violence of monastic 
rage. Leo IV, who was proclaimed emperor in 
755, pursued the same measures, and had recourse 
to the coercive influence of penal laws, in order to 
extirpate idolatry out of the Christian church. Irene, 
the wife of Leo, having poisoned her husband in 
780, assumed the reins of empire during the mino- 
rity of her son Constantine; and in 786, summoned 
a council at Nice, in Bithynia, known by the name 
of the second Nicene council^ which abrogated the 
laws and decrees passed by former emperors against 
the new idolatry, restored the worship of imuges, 
and of the cross, and denounced severe punishments 
against those who maintained that God was the only 
object of religious adoration. 

In this contest the Britons, Germans, and Gauls 
were of opinion that images might be lawfully con- 
tinued in the churches; but they considered the wor- 
ship of them as highly injurious and offensive to the 
Supreme Being. Charlemagne distinguished him- 
self as a mediator in this controversy; he ordered 
four books concerning images to be composed, re- 
futing the reasons urged by the Nicene bishops to 
justify the worship of images, which he sent to 
Adrian, the Roman pontiff', in 790, in order to en- 
gage him to withdraw his approbation of the decrees 
of the last council of Nice. Adrian wrote an an- 
swer; and in 794, a council of three hundred bish- 
ops, assembled by Charlemagne, at Franckfort on 



212 SIX YEARS IN THE 

the Maine, confirmed the opinion contained in the 
four books, and solemnly condemned the worship of 
images. 

In the Greek church, after the banishment of 
Irene, the controversy concerning images broke out 
anew, and was carried on by the contending parties, 
during the half of the ninth century, with various 
and uncertain success. The emperor Nicephorus 
appears upon the whole to have been an enemy to 
this idolatrous worship. His successor, Michael 
Curopalates, surnamed Rhangabe, patronised and 
encouraged it. But the scene changed on the ac- 
cession of Leo, the Armenian, to the empire, who 
assem.bled a council at Constantinople, in 812, that 
abolished the decrees of the Nicene council. His 
successor, Michael, surnamed Balbus, disapproved 
of the worship of images, and his son Theophilus, 
treated their worshippers with great severity. How- 
ever, the Empress Theodora, after his death, and dur- 
ing the minority of her son, assembled a council at 
Constantinople in 842, which reinstated the decrees of 
the second Nicene council, and encouraged image 
worship by an edict. The council held at the same 
place under Protius, in 879, and reckoned by the 
Greeks the eighth general council, confirmed and re- 
newed the Nicene decrees. In commemoration of 
this council, a festival was instituted by the super- 
stitious Greeks, called the feast of oy^thodoxy ^ which 
is continued to be celebrated down to our own days, 
though veiy few among them, not even excepting 
the Greek priests themselves, know the reason of 
its being instituted. 

The Latin church of the ninth century was gene- 
rally of opinion, that images might be allowed in 
the churches for the sake of ornament, or for excit- 
ing the devotion of the people; but it absolutely 
prohibited that any thing like religious worship or 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY^ &C. 213 

adoration should be paid to them. The council of 
Paris, assembled in 824, by Louis the Meek, con- 
firmed by a decree this general opinion of the west- 
ern church, with regard to images; and, at the same 
time, commanded, under pain of punishment, that 
Christians should regard them in no other light, than 
that of church ornaments: nevertheless, the Gallican 
clergy began to pay a kind of religious homage to 
the images of saints, and their examples were fol- 
lowed by the Germans and other nations. However 
the enemies to image worship had still their adher- 
ents among the Latins; the most eminent of whom 
w^as Claudius, bishop of Turin, who, in 823, order- 
ed all images, and even the cross, to be cast out of 
the churches, and committed to the flames; and he 
wrote a treatise, in w^hich he declared both against 
the use and worship of them. He condemned re- 
lics, pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and all voyages 
to the tombs of saints; and to his wTitings and la- 
bours it was owing, that the city of Turin, and the 
adjacent country, was, for a long time after his death, 
much less infected with superstition, than the other 
parts of Europe. The controversy concerning the 
sa^nctity of images, was again revived by Leo, bishop 
of Chalcedon, in the eleventh century, on occasion 
of the Emperor Alexius's converting the figures of 
silver that adorned the portals of the churches into 
money, in order to supply the exigencies of the 
state. The bishop obstinately maintained, that he 
had been guilty of sacrilege, and published a trea- 
tise, in which he affirmed, that in these images there 
resided an inherent sanctity, and that the adoration 
of Christians ought not to be confined to the persons 
represented by these images, but should be extend- 
ed to the images themselves. The emperor assem- 
bled a council at Constantinople, which determined 
that the images of Christ, and of the saints, were to 



214 SIX YEARS IN THE 

be honoured only, with a relative worship; and that 
the invocation and worship were to be addressed to 
the saints only, as the servants of Christ, and on 
account of their relation to him as their master. 
Leo, dissatisfied with these absurd and superstitious 
decisions, was sent into banishment. Had he lived 
some centuries later, or down to our own days, he 
would have little cause to be dissatisfied; for he 
would find images, and pictures adored and prayed 
to, even more than he himself pointed out in his 
treatise; and would find his ow^n theory of their in- 
herent sanctity fully practised upon. From this 
time forward, image-worship was established both 
in the eastern and western churches, without receiv- 
ing any opposition, except from the Albigenses, 
Waldenses, and others, who were too few in num- 
ber, and too weak to cause any obstacle to this ido- 
latrous practice, till the middle of the sixteenth 
century, the era of the reformation, when it was 
abolished in many parts of the Christian world. It 
was again confirmed by the council of Trent, about 
the same time, and is now practised to an extent, 
which it seldom reached before, in every part of the 
globe, where popery prevails. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Image-worship in the nineteenth century — Statue of St. Peter — 
Opinions^ as to its identity with one of the pagan divinities of 
ancient Rome — Story illustrating the vengeance, which it takes 
on those who dishonour it — Another, whereby it becomes clear 
that his brazen saintship has the power of protecting his devout 
worshippers — Reflections. 

Having, in the foregoing chapter^ given a sue 
cinct history of the rise and progress of images and 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 215 

image-worship, according to the views of the best 
writers on the subject; 1 shall in this, and some fol- 
lowing chapters, endeavour to give some account of 
the practice of that idolatry on the continent of Eu- 
rope, and in other places, where popery triumphs. 

There are very few churches in Rome, that are 
not distinguished for the possession of some wonder- 
ful and miracle-working image or picture. The 
prayers, and consequently, the offerings presented 
at the shrine of those idols, are the sources of great 
emoluments to the priests attached to their service, 
and therefore the latter use all the means in their 
power to cherish and excite the popular devotion to- 
wards them. To begin with St. Peter's; that splen- 
did edifice, so renowned through the whole civilised 
world for the beauty of its architecture, and for the 
other stupendous master-pieces of the arts, with 
which it is adorned; its very portal, on which are 
represented in relievo-figures the actions and mira- 
cles of deified men, announces it, at once, as a 
place dedicated to idolatrous worship. The visitor 
does not advance more than ten steps up its magni- 
ficent and awe-inspiring aisle, before he must lament 
to find a temple nominally designed for the worship 
of the true God, polluted by the monstrous super- 
stitions of idolatry, fie will observe the bronze statue 
of St. Peter, seated in a chair of the same metal, and 
armed in theone hand with the insigniaof his office — 
thekeys,as being gate-keeperof heaven — whilst with 
the other, he seems in the act of bestowing a blessing 
upon those, who, after having humbly adored him 
upon their knees, are advancing to kiss his brazen 
foot, extended for that purpose. This statue or rather 
idol, placed on his right hand side after entering the 
church, strongly reminds the visitor of the soul-de- 
stroying idolatry practised in the church of Rome. 
Not far from this, but nearer to the door, he will 



216 SIX YEARS IN THE 

see another practical example of the system, by 
which men are led to place their hopes of salva- 
tion — not upon the all-atoning blood of Christ, but 
on the inventions of their fellow-men: he will ob- 
serve the vessel for holy water, guarded by two 
marble angels, v^Mth wings expanded, and of exqui- 
site workmanship, overflowing with that water, 
which (so teacheth the Roman church,) freeth from 
venial sins.* Thus is the blood of Christ, that 
(alone) cleanseth from all sin^ rendered invalid by 
the substitution of other atonements. 

The idol statue of St. Peter is supposed to have 
been worshipped by the ancient Romans under the 
name of Jupiter Stator, and to have been transformed 
into a Christian saint, when idolatrous corruption 
first broke forth in the Western Churches; which 
event may be dated, as we have already seen, from 
the beginning of the seventh century. It is true, 
that there are many opinions afloat respecting the 
original design and title of it some defending its 
identity with Jupiter Stator: others again with Ju- 
piter Capitolinus, whilst not few assert, that it had 
been the statue of the Two-faced Janus, and that the 
latter's head was knocked off to make room for the 

* The aqua sancta, or the holy water, is manifestly another 
remnant of the pagan superstition, which is to be found scattered 
through the rites and ceremonies of the church of Rome. It cor- 
responds with the aqua lustralis of the ancients, and seems also 
to be imitated by the Mahometans, who, in a copious shower of 
clear water, wash themselves from their sins. The Mahometan 
ablutions, and the Popish sprinklings are, then, reducible to one 
and the same thing — the obtaining remission of sin. The Mahom- 
etan way is much the cleaner, and therefore to be preferred ; for it, 
at least, cleanses the body, whereas popish holy water is very often 
suffered to remain in the churches, till it gets into a state of cor- 
ruption, and tlius becomes highly detrimental to the health of the 
people. I have often seen a greenish slime upon it in some churches. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 217 

head of St. Peter. All agree, however that it formerly 
represented a heathen god, and that very little alte- 
ration was made in it, in order to render it a fitting 
object for Christian adoration; which adoration it 
never received with greater marks of devotion and 
respect, whilst in the character of a Jupiter, than it 
now receives in its character of first Pope, and gate- 
keeper of heaven. happy piece of brass! (the 
reader will exclaim,) to be thus raised to divine ho- 
nors! Thrice happy indeed, if it could feel those 
honors; but unfortunately " it has eyes, but cannot 
see," and " ears but cannot hear." If it could 
either hear or see, it would blush and be ashamed of 
seeing itself, a creature, adored, instead of God 
the Creator, and would thus show itself more mod- 
est than the soi-disant Vicar of Christ, who not 
onl}^ suiSers himself to be adored daily by those, 
whom his false doctrines have led out of the right 
path, but even claims that adoration as his right. 

There are many fables related by monkish annal- 
ists concerning the power attributed to this idol, and 
the many favours obtained from its munificent hands 
by devout worshippers; and also concerning the pun- 
ishment, which had been inflicted on those, who 
dared, in any way, trespass against its majesty, or 
use it with irreverence. 

I shall mention one or two stories of this kind, for 
the purpose of exhibiting the manner, in which im- 
age-worship is upheld in the church of Rome, and 
the ridiculous fables, that are brought forward by 
its advocates in proof of its acceptance with the Su- 
preme Being. 

Many men, perhaps more than thirty, are daily 
employed at St. Peter's, whose duty it is to keep 
the church clean, and wipe the dust from the altars, 
statues, pictures, &:c. One of these men, in a mo- 
ment of gayety, resolved to have a laugh at the vvor- 
19 



218 SIX YEARS IN THE 

shippers of the brazen idol, St. Peter. For thisvpur- 
pose, he procured some grease and lamp black, and 
mixing them well together, he watched an opportu- 
nity, when no one was present, to besmear with the 
composition the foot of St. Peter, which is unusually 
bright from the number of kisses bestowed upon it 
by the superstitious worshippers. Having laid his 
snare, he betook himself to another part of the church, 
\vhere he could observe those that entered; and who, 
as is the custom, first go to the holy water vessel, 
and wash themselves with a drop of the purificatory 
water from their venial sins, after which they ad- 
vance to pay their devoirs to St. Peter, and kiss his 
foot. He anticipated no small share of amusement, 
and food for laughter, in seeing those, who kissed 
the idol's foot, retreating with blackened lipsand face 
from their act of devotion. He had not remained 
long orf the watch, when a foreign bishop with his 
attachh of five or six priests entered the church; 
an-d after having been freed from their venial sins 
by a drop of the sicred element, they, like true 
papieolists, advanced to the adoration of St. Peter. 
Having repeated a iew pater nosrers, on their knees 
before the image, they proceeded to kiss its foot; 
the bishop showing the example, as it was meet, 
he being the first in dignity. He carried off, in 
reward of his devotion, as may be supposed, no small 
share of the lamp-black, with which it was besmear- 
ed; and on being imitated by his followers, they also 
were not left without their share of it. The plan 
succeeded so far, to the satisfaction of the wag that 
devised it. The parties concerned were as yet un- 
conscious of their black lipsand faces, and continued 
their walk through the church, looking at the pic- 
tures and examining the statues. They wondered, 
however, what was ridiculous about them, that they ex 
ijited the laughter of ail whom they met. On look- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 219 

ing in the faces of each other, they soon discovered, 
how the affair stood, and they themselves could not 
refrain froin laughter, when they saw the figjure, 
which their leader, Monsignor the bishop, exhibi- 
ted with his blackened face. H:^ving retired into 
one of the sacristies, they obtained water, and with 
it performed for their faces, what they imagined the 
holy-water had done for their souls a little before. 
Inquiries were made for the perpetrator of the Aor- 
riddeed; but no one could be found on whom sus- 
picion could fall; no one, in fine, knew any thing 
about it. In the course of the day, one of the men 
mounted a moveable scaffolding, made for the pur- 
pose of brushing cobwebs from the ceiling and from 
other elevated parts of the church, and whilst in the 
act of performing his office, his foot accidentally 
slipped, and he fell headlong from a height of more 
than twenty feet. His companions ran to his assist- 
ance, but he, alas! was speechless. Instead of procu- 
ring surgical aid, the whole cry was for the " holy 
oil^^ in order to anoint him. Whilst the priest was 
anointing him, he uttered a few indistinct words from 
which the by-standers could gather, that he was the 
person who impiously profaned the statute of 
St. Peter. The words that he uttered were, " 
San Pietro, sei vindicato." Saint Peter, thou 
art revenged. In fact, the sufierer turned out to be 
the wag, who had polluted St. Peter's foot. Being 
carried to one of the public hospitals, he there recov- 
ered so far as to be able to confess the whole occur- 
rence, and to acknowledge, that the accident which 
befell him was a just punishment for his impiety. 
He died shortly after — fortunately indeed for him- 
self, for had he recovered, he would have been sent 
to the galleys for life. This accident afforded a 
theme to the monks and other priests for preaching 
the great power of the idol statue, and ihe punish- 



220 SIX YEARS IN THE 

ment, which all those are sure to meet with, who 
impiously commit any thing against the honor and 
respect due to it. A pamphlet was shortly after pub- 
lished by order of the pope, wherein were related 
the miracles performed by the agency of the brazen 
St. Peter, and the signal vengeance, which, on more 
occasions than one, the latter had taken on those that 
dishonoured his statue. A procession composed of 
all the clergy in Rome was made to the image in or- 
der to appease the wrath of the angry deity — not 
God, but Peter or his idol — and many days indul- 
gences were granted to all, who devoutly salute and 
kiss his brazen foot on entering the church. Thus 
an accident, which may as well have happened to 
the greatest devotee in the church, as to the one, 
who, through levity, seemingly dishonored the sta- 
tue, was made a foundation, on which to build up 
new lying wonders, and thereby stir up the people 
to an increase of devotion towards the wooden, and 
brazen gods of popery. 

The foregoing story may serve for an example of 
the punishment, w^hich St Peter inflicts upon those, 
who dare dishonour his image: the following will 
exemplify the rewards he bestows upon his faithful 
worshippers. A Roman lady of a respectable fami- 
ly, being involved by unavoidable misfortunes in 
great pecuniary difficulties, had recourse to the bra- 
zen image of St. Peter, as her last hope of obtain- 
ing wherewith to support her rank in society, and 
give her children an education suitable to their 
birth. She was left a widow with a large fami- 
ly. Her husband had died suddenl}^, and his pro- 
perty was seized upon by his creditors. She had, 
whilst living in affluence, a ver}^ great devotion 
towards the image of St. Peter, which is w^or- 
shipped in the church called after his name at 
Ronie, and was wont for a number years to visit it 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 221 

daily, and prostrating herself before it, to pour 
forth her soul in prayer^ and thanksgiving. This 
pious exercise, she did not discontinue on being 
plunged into poverty; nay, poverty had quite a con- 
trary effect Uj)on her, for it only made her more 
urgent in her prayers, and excited her to cast her 
afflictions at the feet of the blessed apostle, and con- 
fidently demand his assistance. The greater num- 
ber of her children were females, (the legend does 
not say, how many they were in all,) two of whom 
were now marriageable, and although of handsome 
person — they were nevertheless unable to find any 
young men, their equals, who would be willing to 
take them as wives, on account of their want of 
fortune. One of them was sought in marriage by a 
rich man, who, upon discovering her want of dowry, 
withdrew his suit. This was most painful to the 
afflicted mother, who had no other way to assuage 
her grief, than to proceed, as usual, to St. Peter's, 
and recommend herself and family to the protec- 
tion of the prince of the apostles. The blessed 
apostle compassionating the poor woman's affliction, 
and being, moreover, well pleased * with the heart- 
felt devotion she exhibited towards himself, resolved 
to mitigate her sufferings, and present her with the 
means of portioning her daughters. For this pur- 
pose, he appeared to her in a dream, and command- 

* This will bring to the reader's memory the description of sa- 
crifices offered up to appease the wrath of an offended heathen 
god. The description of such sacrifices are frequently to be met 
with in the ancient Greek and Latin poets. The god, in whose 
honour they are performed, is represented " well pleased," with the 
odour of the burnt offerings. The modern god Peter, is represent- 
ed by his devotees, well pleased with the prayers offered up to him- 
self; without considering, how much such prayers derogate from 
the honour due to the only true God. 

19^ 



222 SIX YEARS IN THE 

her to approach the throne of his successor in the 
government of the Christian church, and lay open 
to him her diiBculties, adding, that he himself would 
prepare the mind of the vicar of Christ for her re- 
ception. She, upon awaking from sleep, recollected 
the dream, hut imagining it to he a delusion of the 
imagination, neglected to perform what she was com- 
manded. On returning to the church the following 
day, she cast herself, as she was accustomed to do, 
on her knees before the image of St. Peter, and re- 
newed her former supplications. The apostle ap- 
peared to her again, whilst in an extacy on her 
knees, and chided her for not obeying his commands. 
She considered this second vision, as w^ell as the 
first, a delusion; and accordingly treated it as such. 
In fine, St. Peter appeared to her the third time, 
(there is some great virtue attached to the number 
"/Aree,'^ by popular superstition,) and wMth an an- 
gry countenance commanded her to proceed forth- 
with to his successor, the reigning pope, and ask 
from him in his (St. Peter's) name, for as much as 
might be sufficient for the decent maintenance cf 
herself and family. She now resisted no longer; 
and immediately set about obtaining access to the 
throne of His Holiness; being confident, that the 
communication made to her w^as not a delusion of 
the imagination, but had its foundation in truth. 
On obtaining an audience, and after going through 
the usual ceremonies practised by all, who approach 
the presence of the Vicar of Christ, (such as kiss- 
ing the slipper, falling upon the knees, &c.) she 
related the visions, with which she had been favoured 
by the prince of the apostles; and how he had 
commanded her to lay her necessities and troubles 
before him, his successor in the government of the 
church. The Holy Father (thus the pope is styled,) 
listened to her with kindness and attention; and after 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 223 

she had concluded her address, told her, that he him- 
self had also heen visited hy St. Peter, who exhorted 
him to receiv^e with kindness a poor widow, who 
would in a short time present herself before him. 
He then related his own vision to the surrounding 
attendants, all of whom fell on their knees, and 
adored the holy representative of Christ, who w^as 
thus manifestly guided in his actions b}^ the influ- 
ence of the Holy Spirit. He exhorted the holy 
widow to persevere in her devotion towards the 
image of St. Peter, and promised to provide from 
the public treasury, for herself and her children. 
This promise was fulfilled a short time afterward.' 
an annuity vras settled upon the widow by com- 
mand of His Holiness, and her children were provi- 
ded for in diflFerent w^ays; some being established 
in the married state, and others dedicated to the ser- 
vice of the church, in w^hich they became useful 
members, through the powerful protection of their 
patron, the brazen idol of St. Peter. Thus, (con- 
tinues the annalist) was this pious widow, and her 
family relieved from poverty and distress, by the 
favour of the blessed apostle, who took that method 
to reward those, who were devoted to his worship. 
By her example, all should be excited to a firm re- 
liance upon his power and goodness, and to a heart- 
felt adoration of his sacred im.age. 

By such absurd and ridiculous tales as these rela- 
ted, is the popular superstition kept alive, and the 
minds of the people imbued with the soul-killmg 
system of idolatry, which Rome teaches her fol- 
lowers in lieu of the life-giving truth, as it is in 
Jesus. By giving credence to the lying wonders, 
and nonsensical inventions of monks, and other self- 
interested men, they are led to place their hopes, 
not only of temporal blessings, but also, of everlast- 
ing salvation, on the intercession and protection of 



224 SIX YEARS IN THE 

the Saint, whose imao;e they worship with peculiar 
devotion, and not on the providential care of God^ 
and the all-sufficient atonement of His Son. In- 
deed, so deluded do the people become b}^ the in- 
cessant repetition of such tales by their priests, in 
the confessional, pulpit, and private conversations, 
that they almost lose all forms of Christian wor- 
ship, and give themselves up entirely to the worship 
of the fictitious gods of brass and wood. Among 
the uneducated peasantry — especially, fables of this 
kind gain the greatest credence. Nothing is talked 
of in their meetings and conversations with each 
other, but the favours bestowed on some of their 
neighbours at the intercession of Saint Such-a-one^ 
whose image is worshipped in siich a place. If 
their sheep should be infected with the rot, or their 
vineyards destroyed by hail; do they, perhaps, re- 
cur to Him, who alone can effectually assist them? 
No, indeed, for this would be too much like Christi- 
anity. By the advice of the priest, masses must be 
celebrated, and candles offered at the shrine of some 
Saint, in order to appease the anger of the god, who 
inhabits it. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALF, &C. 225 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Images of the Virgin Mary — La Santa Casa di Loretto — History 
of the Holy House — Income of the priests attached to it — Sale 
of vermin — The miraculous image of the Virgin Mary at Basil 
— Expedient of the priests for reviving the dying superstition — 
Letter of the Virgin Mary to a reformed clergyman — Notes ex- 
planatory of the foregoing letter — Late repentance— Litany of 
the Virgin — St. Peter, gate-keeper of Heaven — Gulielmus — 
George — St. Anthony, protector of swine — Different offices as- 
signed to the crowd of saints in the popish calendar. — Reflec- 
tions. 

Were 1 to make separate mention of half the 
wonderful images, which are scattered up and down 
through the different churches of Italy, I should be 
obliged to transgress the limits, laid down for this 
work: indeed, a simple catalogue of their names 
alone, would fill a good-sized volume. I shall, there- 
fore, not to tire the reader, confine myself to a few 
of the more remarkable, passing over in silence 
those of less note. Of the former class, wherever 
they are to be found, whether at Rome or Turin, 
Milan or Naples, the images of the Madonna are 
always held in the greatest estinlation, and innume- 
rable miracles are said to be performed in favour of 
those, who devoutly pray before them. The Ma- 
donna answers in every respect to a heathen god- 
dess, and perhaps the worship paid to her diflferent 
pictures and statues, is more revolting than that paid 
to the celebrated image of the Ephesian Diana. Her 
statues and pictures are so numerous, that, had she 
the power of animating one fourth of them, she 
could justly be said, to have acquired, in some de- 



226 SIX YEARS IN THE 

gree, the attribute of ubiquity, if not in her own 
person, at least in that of the various statues and 
pictures by which she is represented. Some of 
these, but especially the pictures, are master-pieces 
of art, while others, on the contrary, do not, in any 
way flatter the virgin for her personal beauty. They 
are, however, generally of the former class; some 
countenances being so exquisitely beautiful, that 
they probably gave rise to the well known verses of 
a late poet, who, when relating the early education 
of his Spanish hero, represents him as 

Turning from martyrs and hermits hairy, 
To the sweet pictures of the Virgin Mary. 

Pictures and images of the Madonna are placed 
in the principal streets of Rome and other ci- 
ties, to which are affixed lamps, kept burning all 
night in honour of the goddess. Indulgences are 
granted to all, who bow down before them, and re- 
peat a few Pater nosters and Ave Marias in their 
honour. A tablet is always attached to the frame, 
or to some other part of the picture, on which is 
written its history, the manner it was discovered, 
and the numerous favours obtained at its interces- 
sion. Some are related to have been sent down from 
Heaven ; others, to have fled of their own accord from 
the hands of Turks, or other infidels; others to have 
moved the head, or eyes; in fine, there is no pic- 
lure of the Madonna, to which popular superstition 
does not attribute some miracle or other. The 
number of days' or years' indulgences to be obtained 
for the trouble of repeating a " Pater noster," and 
" Ave Maria," is then related, followed by the sig- 
nature and seal of the pope or bishop, by whom 
such indulgences have been granted. The usual 
form of these grants is conceived in words of the fol- 
lowing import, either in Latin or Italian, but morefre- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 227 

quently in the latter language : Monsignor N — , 

or Sua SantitdN , concede un anno, d^indulgen- 

za a tutti li fedeli, per ogni volta, che divotamente 
rechano '' un paler nosier ed un ave Maria/^ avanti 
questa sacra imagine di Maria santissima. (The most 
Reverend Bishop N — , or His Holiness N — , grants 
one year's indulgence to all the faithful for every 
time they devoutly repeat '-' the LorcTs prayer^ and 
the hail Mary, '\heiove this sacred image of the 
most holy Mary,) 

The image of the. Virgin, to which all her other 
images yield the palm, is that worshipped at Loret- 
to, an insignificant village in the pope's states. This 
image is preserved in the " santa casa/' or holy 
house, which tradition reports — and the pope has 
sealed such a report with his infallihle authority, so 
as to make it an article of faith, and therefore essen- 
tial to the salvation of man — to have been transport- 
ed by angels from Nazareth to Dalmatia, and thence 
to the papal states, where it now remains. In a 
book, expressly designed for instructing in the mi- 
racles, and history of the Holy House, the pilgrims, 
who come in crowds from all parts of Italy, and 
other countries, in order to pay ihe'ir devoirs to the 
Virgin, there may be found the following narrative 
of the manner, in which the papal states obtained 
possession of this miraculous house, and of the equal- 
ly miraculous image and relics, which are preserved 
in it for the adoration of the faithful. This book is 
called " La storia della casa miracolosa della Ver- 
gine Maria Lauretana,'^ (The history of the mira- 
culous house of the Virgin Mary of Loretto,) printed 
at the Vatican press, and approved by the " Master 
of the sacred apostolic palace,'^ — colla approvazione 
della sacra aula apostolica. — Hence there can be no 
doubt, that the monstrous lies, which are embodied 
in it, are sanctioned by the authority of the iiifallU 



228 SIX YEARS IN THE 

ble churchy and of its equally infallible head^ the 
pope. It begins with the bull of pope Somebody^ 
confirming its contents, and anathematizing, as 
usual, all, who would call in question, the truth of 
any thing related in it. It then goes on to inform 
its reader, that the Holy House was built in Naza- 
reth of Galilee by Joachim, the father of the Virgin 
Mary, and that at his death, he bequeathed it to his 
beloved daughter, the mother of Christ. That Jesus 
was born, and lived in this same house for twelve 
years, and assisted Joseph, his mother's husband, 
who exercised the trade of a carpenter under its 
roof. After the death- of Mary — who, by the vvay, 
is believed to have been taken alive into Heaven, 
by what authority, I never could learn — the house 
continued in the possession of her nearest in kin- 
dred, till the time of Titus Vespasian, who with his 
conquering army devastated Galilee, and razed the 
town of Nazareth to the ground. The Holy House 
was at this time protected by a corps of angels, sent 
down from Heaven, to guard it, so that Til us could 
not remove one single stone, or cause any damage 
to it. It remained quietly in Nazareth, till the 
year 1291, when Galilee falling into the hands of 
the infidels, and every Christian being put to the 
sword, the Holy House thought it full time to con- 
sult for its own preservation. It, accordingly, com- 
manded its angel- guards to lift i( from its founda- 
tions, and transfer it to some Christian country. 
The angels, obedient to the commands, immediately 
complied, and bare it through the air into Dalmatia. 
There it remained for three years, when taking of- 
fence at the irreverence, with which it was treated 
by the inhabitants, it again emigrated, and by the 
same agency, as on the former occasion, it was set 
down in a wood convenient to the town of Kecanali, 
in the papal state. The trees ^bovved down to the 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 229 

ground at its approach, and thus remained in rever- 
ence during the eight months it remained in Iheir 
neighbourhood. But being of a migratory disposi- 
tion, and unwilling to bear the seclusion, in which 
it was held by being stationed in the middle of a 
thick forest, it again took flight, and established it- 
self contentedly at Loretto, where it now remains. 
Nor is it likely that it will soon leav^e the latter place, 
for it is imprisoned in a magnificent ch-urch, built de- 
signedly for that purpose. '^Thus,^^ (says this vera- 
cious history,) '-' has God vouchsafed to grant to the 
country, wherein he established the chief seat of his 
religion, a convincing proof of the estimation, in 
which that country is held by Him; and a sure refuge 
in the hour of peril to those, who flee for protection 
under the wings of the mother of his Son — sotto 
I'ale della madre del suo figlio.^^ 

This image, to which so many miracles are attri- 
buted, and before which so many disgusting scenes 
of worse than pagan idolatry are daily practised, is 
black, and so extremely ugly, that certainly it can- 
not be for its beauty that it is held in such estima- 
tion. It is gaudily dressed, and literally laden with 
magnificent jewels, and other precious articles. An 
infant, representing the child Jesus, is placed in its 
arms, of the same colour as the mother, and also sur- 
rounded by a magnificent show of finery. Devo- 
tees com^e from all parts of Italy on pilgrimages to 
this shrine, to whom the dust of the walls, the cob- 
webs, nay, even the very spiders, are sold at extra- 
ordinary prices; for the image and house are not 
only holy themselves, but also give holiness to 
whatever is touched by them. I have seen myself, 
on visiting Loretto about four years ago, a pebble 
taken from the walls of the Santa Casa, sold for ten 
Roman scudi, or dollars, and an unfortunate mouse, 
that was found concealing itself among the folds of 
20 



230 SIX YEARS IN THE 

the Virgin's dress, sold for as much as would buy a 
good ox. This mouse was embalmed by the gentle- 
man who bought it, — a Piedmontese pilgrim ; and en- 
closed in a silver box, to be kept by him and his pos- 
terity, as a certain and infallible remedy against all 
diseases and accidents. But about relics, more in 
the sequel. 

Every mass celebrated within the Santa Casa is 
paid for at the most extraordinary price. I have 
been assured by the keepers of the house, who 
were monks of my own order — Capuchins; that 
between masses and lands, and the gifts of the pil- 
grims, the annual income of the church, at Loretto, 
amounts to more than 50.000 dollars. The French 
army, whilst in Italy, took the liberty of depriving 
the Madonna of the greater part of her treasure, 
having pillaged the church of whatever things of va- 
lue they could lay hands upon. The chest, in which 
were preserved some valuable gems, was secreted by 
one of the old priests, and by liim restored after the 
French evacuated Italy. This act of honesty is 
really worthy of praise, if it were done through an 
unwillingness to keep what did not belong to him; 
but it is very probable, that his virtue would hardly 
resist the temptation, had the gems belonged to any 
less powerful personage than the Madonna, and I am, 
therefore, inclined to think, that superstition had a 
greater influence on his mind than natural honesty. 
Be thatas it may, it is certain, thatthe gems saved from 
the French soldiery were returned, and are now used 
for decorating the person of her smutty majesty, 
the Queen of Heaven. There is a dean and chap- 
ter attached to the church of Loretto, whose duty it 
is to recite daily the office of the Madonna, and of 
some other saints, for which they receive a princely 
salary. Twelve Capuchins are also of the god- 
dess' household, and these have the care of the holy 
house, as it would be deemed a mortal sin, and to be 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 231 

atoned for only by death, if any one less than a priest 
dared to enter the presence of the queen. To them, 
therefore, it belongs to sweep and clean the holy 
house, and to collect the sanctified dust, the insects, 
vermin, and all other things, of no value in them- 
selves, hut of the greatest, when touched either de- 
signedly, or accidentally, by the garments, or any 
other thing belonging to the Holy Virgin. Nor is 
this all, the things touched hy the image have also 
received the power of sanctifying other things in 
turn; but the laiter are esteemed of minor efficacy 
than the former, and therefore are not so much 
sought after. The Capuchins are paid so much an- 
nually for their services, as domestics of the Virgin 
— I believe 500 dollars each; and have also no small 
emolument from the sale of the sweepings which 
they collect, and which, or rather the money ob- 
tained for them from idiotical pilgrims, they are ob- 
liged to divide fairly, with the other persons belong- 
ing to her majesty's suit. Thus the Italian proverb 
^'vendere lucciole per lanterne" — to sell fire-flies 
for lanterns, is literally acted upon by those decei- 
vers of the souls of their fellow-creatures. 

A relation of the many fables and pseudo-mira- 
cles which are propagated by the priests and monks, 
attached to the service of the Lauretan goddess, 
would be found quite uninterestijig to the reader. 
I shall, therefore, pass them over in silence, only re- 
marking, that they are so numerous, as to fill 'iw^ 
ponderous folio volumes, entitled, in Latin, ^'Flores 
et miracula Virginis Marise Lauretanse:" — the 
flowers and miracles of the Virgin Mary of Lo- 
retto; and so ridiculous and glaringly false, as to 
make the most zealous advocates of poper}^ blush 
for the honour and veracity of their infallible church; 
— and this is saying a great deal, for it is no easy mat- 
ter to make either popish divines, or popish anna- 



232 SIX YEARS IN THE 

lists blush through consciousness of having com- 
mitted to writing a monstrous farrago of lies, espe- 
cially when they are aware that such falsehoods 
were fabricated for " the good of the church/' and 
that, therefore, the end always excuses the means. 

There existed a famous miracle-working image 
of the Madonna in the city of Basil, before the re- 
formation. This image was of stone, and drew pil- 
grims from all parts of Italy and France to its shrine, 
whence the priests, attached to its service, derived 
great emoluments. Upon the breaking out of the 
reformation in Germany, and when the people be- 
gan to be instructed in the pure religion of Christ, 
pilgrimages to the shrine of this idol became every 
day less frequent, and as Gospel-liglit made greater 
progress, they were discontinued altogether. This 
was severely felt by the priests, who, in order to 
make a last struggle for the revival of the nearly ex- 
tinct superstition, thought upon an expedient, by 
which they hoped to recover, in part, their unhal- 
lowed gains. Ridiculous as it may seem, this was 
no other than to forge a letter addressed to the peo- 
ple of Basil, which they gave out to be written in 
heaven by the Virgin Mary herself, and brought by 
angels, who placed it at the foot of her statue, where 
it was found by a pious priest, devoted to the wor- 
ship of the marble-virgin. In this letter she chides 
the people for their want of devotion towards her 
image, and, like another offended Diana, threatens 
them with heavy chastisement, unless they imme- 
diately make reparation to her insulted deity. Eras- 
mus has founded his letter of the Virgin, written 
also in heaven, to a Lutheran minister of the 15th 
century, on this forgery of the priests of Basil. He 
wittily ridicules the prevailing superstition of that 
period, and makes the Virgin say, what very pro- 
bably she would say, had she been able to hear the 



MONASTERIES OP ITALY, &C. 233 

blasphemous prayers and vows offered up at her 
shrines, by the deluded victims of popish errors. 
It may not'be thought superfluous to give the letter 
entire, as it exists in the colloquy called ^'peregri- 
natio religionis ergo/' (wandering through religious 
motives.) It is addressed, under a fictitious name, 
to some zealous reformed clergyman of that period, 
and is feigned to have been found by him in the pul- 
pit, on his ascending it to address his congregation: 
"Mary, the mother of Jesus, to Glaucoplutus, 
health. Because following the doctrines of Luther, 
you teach that it is useless to invoke the saints, 
know, that you have obtained great favour with 
me on this account. For, before your preaching, but 
little was wanting that I was not killed from listen- 
ing to the. wicked petitions of mankind. From me 
alone every thing was demanded, as if my son was 
for ever to remain an infant, as he is painted in my 
arms; and as if he entirely depended upon my 
will, and would not dare deny any thing which I 
might be pleased to ask of him, fearing lest I, in 
turn, should deny him the breast, when he would 
feel desirous to drink. Sometimes these, my wor- 
shippers, demand from me, a virgin, things which 
a modest youth could scarcely have the face to ask 
from a woman of ill-fame; things, indeed, which I 
am ashamed to commit to writing. The merchant 
setting out for Spain recommends to my care the 
chastity of his concubine. The nun, dedicated to 
God, thinking upon flying from her nunnery, and 
having thrown aside her veil, leaves to my care the 
fi^me of her integrity, which she herself is on the 
point of prostituting. The impious soldier, hired 
to butcher his fellow-creatures, cries out before me, 
"0 blessed Virgin, give me a plentiful harvest of 
plunder." The gamester cries out, "favour me, 
goddess, a part of the gains will be given to you;'' 

20* 



234 SIX YEARS IN THE 

and if the game should turn against him, he re- 
proaches and curses me, because I was not propiti- 
ous and favourable to his wickedness. The harlot, 
who lets out her body for hire, prays, '^give me an 
abundant income;" and if I deny her, then she ex- 
claims, "that I am not a mother of mercy, "^^ The 
prayers of others are not so wicked as they are 
foolish. The unmarried girl exclaims, "give me, 
O holy Mary, a handsome and rich husband." The 
married, "give me handsome children." The en- 
ceinte,, "give mean easy accouchem^ent,^^ The old 
woman, '^ grant me a long life, without cough or 
thirst. The childish old man, "grant me the power 
of again becoming yOung." The philosopher prays 
for the power of forming incomprehensible argu- 
ments; the priest prays for a rich benefice; the 
bishop, for the protection of his church; the sailor, 
for prosperous voyages; the courtier, for a sincere 
confession of his sins at the hour of death; (^) the 
farmer, for seasonable rain; the farmer's wife, for 
ihe health and preservation of the cattle. If I deny 
any of these favours, immediately I am called "a 
cruel woman;" and if I send them to my son, I am 
then answered ^^he wishes wMiatever you wish." 
Thus on me alone, a luonian and a virgin^ is 
thrown the care of sailors, soldiers, merchants, 
gamesters, bachelors, women in travail, kings, and 
husbandmen. But I am now less troubled with bu- 
siness of this kind, for which I should have been 
very thankful to you, had not this advantage brought 
with it also disadvantages: there is less trouble, but 
there is also less honour, and less emoluments. Be- 
fore your preaching, I was saluted "Queen (2) of the 
heavens;^^ "Mistress of the world;" now I scarcely 
hear from a few worshippers '' Hail Mary, ^^ Be- 
fore, I was clad in gems and gold; I had a well sup- 
plied wardrobe; rich gifts were offered to me; now 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 235 

lam scarcely covered with the half of an old cloak, 
and that same gnawed by mice; whilst my annual 
income is scarcely sufficient for the support of one 
miserable priest, who might light a little lamp, or a 
tallow-candle in honour of me. But I could even 
suffer these things, degrading as they are, had not 
even worse been in preparation. You have a de- 
sign, people say, of thrusting out of the sacred tem- 
ples the whole crowd of gods! (saints!) Beware, 
again and again beware of what you are about. There 
are not wanting to the other gods ways and means of 
revenging tiie injuries committed against their majes- 
ty. If Peter (^) be shut out of the temple, take care, that 
he, in retaliation, shut not against you the gate of the 
heavenly kingdom. Paul (^) has a sword, and Bar- 
tholomew (^) is armed with a knife; William, under 
the habit of a monk, will be found encased in a 
heavy coat of mail, and brandishing a long spear. (^) 
But how are }- ou to defend yourself against George5(^) 
a knight, surrounded with armed men, and formi- 
dable both on account of his lance and sword? Nor 
is Anthony (^) himself unarmed, for he has the sa- 
cred fire. There are also their peculiar arms to the 
other gods, which they use in inflicting on their 
enemies sickness, and other misfortunes, which can- 
not be cured without the invocation of their assist- 
ance. (^) * As for my own part, you certainly shall 
not thrust me, though unarmed, from the temple, 
unless you also thrust out my son, whom I hold in 
my arms. I will not suffer myself to be violently 
separated from him; for either you must turn him 
out with me, or suffer both of us to remain, unless, 
indeed, you choose rather a temple without a Christ. 
These things I wished to make known to you; do 
you ponder what answer is to be returned to me, 

* See Notes from 1 to 9, a.t the end of this chapter. 



236 SIX YEARS IN THE 

for I am deeply interested in the subject. Dated 
from my marble temple, on the calends of August, 
in the year of my crucified son, 1524. 

I, a marble virgin, have signed it with my own 
hand. 

Mary-Virgin, the Mother of Jesus. 

I subjoin the original Latin, for the satisfaction of 
those, who md^y feel desirous of seeing this curious 
epistle in its original language. It is, like all other 
of Erasmus' writings, written with classical purit}^, 
and in a style well worthy of imitation by all lovers 
of pui-e latinity. It is, indeed, widely different 
from the barbarisms of the greater part of Romish 
theologians, who had not even the merit of con- 
veying their errors in beautiful language; indeed, 
the whole merit of their works consisted in being 
incomprehensible. 

Maria mater Jesu Glaucopluto S. D. Quod Lu- 
therum sequutus strenue suades, supervacaneum esse 
invocare divos, a me quidem isto nomine bonam 
magnamque inivisti gratiam, scito. Nam ante hoc, 
tantum non enecabar improbis mortalium opplorati- 
onibus. Ab una postulabantur omnia, quasi filius 
mens semper infans esset, quia talis fingitur, pingi- 
turque in sinu meo, ut ex nutu matris adhuc pendeat, 
neque quidquam ausit negare petenti, videlicet me- 
tuens, ne si quid neget roganti, ego vicissim ipsi 
negem mammam sitienti. Et nonnunquam ea petunt 
a Virgine, quae verecundus juvenis vix auderet pe- 
tere a lena, quseque me pudet litteris committere. 
Interim negotiator lucri causa navigaturus in Hispa- 
niam, committit mihi pudicitiam suae concubinse. 
Et virgo Deo sacra, abjecto velo fugam adornans, 
deponit apud me famam integritatis suae, quam ipsa 
tendit prostituere. Occlamat mihi miles & ad lanien- 
dam conductus, Beata Virgo, da praedam opimam. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 237 

Occlamat aleator, Fave, diva, pars lucri tibi decide- 
tur. Et si parum faveat alea, me conviciis laccrant, 
maleque precantur, quae non adfuerim sceleri. Oc- 
clamat quaequasstui turpi semet exponit, Da proven- 
turn uberem. Si quid negem, illico reclamant, Er- 
gone sis mater misericord ias. Aliorum vota non 
tarn impia sunt, quam inepta. Clamat innupta, Da 
mihi formosum ac divitem sponsum. Clamat nupta, 
Da mihi bellos catulos. Clamat gravida, Da mihi 
facilem partum. Clamat anus: Da diu vivere sine 
tussi sitique. Clamat senex delirus: Da repubescere. 
Clamat philosophus: Da nodes insolubiles nectere. 
Clamat sacerdos: Da sacerdotium opimum, Clamat 
episcopus: Serva nieam ecclesiam. Clamat nauta: 
Da prosperos cursus. Clamat aulicus: Da vere con- 
fiteri in articulo mortis. Clamat rusticus: Da tem- 
pestivam pluviam. Clamat rustica: Serva gregem 
et armentum incolume. Si quid renuo, illico sum 
erudelis. Si relego ad filium, audio: Vult ille, 
quidquid tu vis. Itane ego sola et mulier et virgo 
dabo operam navigantibus, belligerantibus, negoti- 
antibus, ludentibus aleam, nubentibus, parturienti- 
bus, regibus, et agricolis? Atqui quod dixi, mini- 
mum est pr3e his quae patior. Sed his negotiis nunc 
multo minus gravor: quo quidem nomine tibi gra- 
tias agerem maximas, nisi commodum Ijoc incom- 
modum majus secum traheret: plus est otii, sed mi- 
nus est honorum, minus est opum. Antea salutabar 
Regina coelorum,Domina mundi: nunc vix a paucis 
audio, Ave Maria. Antea vestiebar gemmis et auro, 
abundabam mutatoriis, deferebantur aurea gemmea- 
que donaria : nunc vix tegor dimidiato palliolo, 
eoque corroso a muribus. Proventus autem annul 
vix tantum, ut alam missrum oedituum, qui accendat 
lucernulam aut candelam sebaceam. Atque haec ta- 
men poterant ferri, ni majora etiam moliri dicereris. 
Hue tendis, ut ajunt, ut quidquid usquam est divo- 



238 SIX YEARS IN THE 

rum, exigas ex aedihus sacris. Ktiam atque etiam, 
vide quid agas. Non deest aliis divis quo suam 
ulciscantur injuriam. Ejectus e tempio Petrus, po- 
test tibi vicessim occludere regni coelestis ostium. 
Paulus habet gladium; Bartholemseus cultro arma- 
tus est; Guilielmus sub pailio monachi totus armatus 
est, non siue gravi lancea. Quid autem agas cum 
Georw^io et equite et cataphracto, hasta simul et gla- 
dio formidabiii? Nee inermis est Antonius; habet 
secum sacrum ionem. Sunt item et cseteris sua vel 
arma, vet mala, quae, quihus volunt, immittunt. 
Me vero quantumvis inermem, non tamen ejicies, 
nisi simul ejecto filio, quern ulnis teneo. Ab hoc 
non me patiar divelli: aut hunc una mecum extru- 
des, aut utrumque relinques, nisi mavis habere tem- 
plum sine Christo. Hsec te scire volui: tu cogita, 
quid mihi respondendum censeas. Nam mihi plane 
res cordi est. Ex aede nostra lapidea, calendis Au- 
gusti, anno filii mei passi 1524. Virgo lapidea mea 
manu subscripsi. 

Maria Virgo Mater Jesu. 

(1) Hour of Death. — Many papists imagine, that if they be so 
fortunate as to be able to make a true confession of their sins, 
when at the point of death ; and if they obtain absolution from the 
mouth of the, priest ; they can have no difficulty, whatever be their 
former lives, or however sinfully they may have lived, of immediately 
entering heaven, or at least purgatory. It is distressing to think 
on the number of immortal souls lost, irretrievably lost for all eter- 
nity, who died trusting to this delusive hope. The pagan poet 
thought better on this subject than popish theologians ; for he ex- 
pressly says, "late repentance is seldom true," — perhaps never — 
''''PcBnitentia sera raro vera est.^'' 

(2) In the litany of the Virgin, sung by immense numbers of 
her devotees, before the images or pictures representing her with 
the child Jesus in her arms, she is styled, " the Queen of Heaven; 
the refuge of sinners; the help of Christians; morning star; our 
only hope; consoler of the afflicted ;" with many other epithets, 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 239 

all derogating from thelionour of God, and offensive to the ears of 
those who have at heart the pure unadulterated worship of their 
Creator. 

(3) It has been mentioned before, that St. Peter is made the 
gate-keeper of Heaven ; or, as a Frenchman would call him, " le 
Suisse,^' He is always painted with keys of immense size, either 
suspended from his girdle, or in his hands. St. Paul is also painted 
with a sword in his hands ; for what reason, I do not know, unless 
it be, that the sword was the instrument of his martyrdom. The 
Apostle Bartholomew is represented holding a knife, in some of his 
pictures; though in others, he is painted holding a cross, made in 
the form of the letter X, on which tradition says, he suffered death. 

(4) and (5)— See the note (9). 

(6) Guilielmus, or William, is. said to have been a Roman 
Knight, who suffered death in one of the early ages of the church. 
He is said to have relinquished all his secular greatness, and to 
have become a monk in one of the eremitical monasteries of Egypt. 
Being brought before the Roman governor, he was commanded to 
sacrifice to the idols, and upon refusing, was given over to the exe- 
cutioner. 

(7) George was tribune of the soldiers (tribunus militum) under 
Diocletian. Having refused to abjure the religion of Christ, he 
was, by command of that persecuting emperor, given up te be de- 
voured by wild beasts. He is made by papists, the special protec- 
tor of soldiers, on account, I suppose, of his former profession. 
Query. Is he the same Vvith St. George, the patron Saint of En- 
gland ? 

(8) St. Anthony, the protector of swine and swine-herds, is also 
celebrated for the power, which he is supposed to possess of curing 
a cutaneous disease, called after his name, " St. Anthony^s Jire.''^ 
He is painted in the dress of a monk, surrounded with a herd of 
swine, who seem to regard their keeper with marks of affection ; 
if it be possible, that affection could be portrayed on the face of a 
— pig. Some painters have attempted it, and I have seen one paint- 
ing in a church, dedicated to this saint, wherein affection was ad- 
mirably expressed on the faces of these self-willed animals. He 
is worshipped with peculiar devotion among the mountains of 
Norcia aud Ascoli, by reason of these mountains being planted 
with innumerable oak trees, on the acorns of which the swine are 



240 SIX YEARS IN THE 

fattened. The owners, in order to call down his blessing upon 
their flocks, build altars to his honour, and worship him in many 
other extravagant, as well as unchristian ways. 

(9) Papists, as well as pagans, of old, attribute a peculiar power 
to each of their saints. Thus, different offices are assigned to dif 
ferent saints. One, is made the patron of those, who labour under 
a sore throat, as St. Blaisius ; another of women labouring in 
child-birth ; another of children, Slc. The saints are said to vin- 
dicate themselves on their luke-warm worshippers, by sending 
down upon them the disease, which they themselves have the power 
of curing. St. Rocco, who is the patron of those sick of the plague, 
is also thought to be of service to those labouring under the vene- 
real disease, and a story is related of his having miraculously cured 
of this detestable malady, one of his devout worshippers. John 
the Baptist, is supposed to have the power of afflicting with the 
fallen sickness, those with whom he has cause to be angry. Hu- 
bert can afflict his opponents with a decline — and so on, of the 
other saints. Each trade in Rome has its own peculiar saint-pro- 
tector. St. Crispin is made the patron ef shoemakers, St. Luke of 
painters, because tradition relates, that he was of that trade ; and 
there is shown in the church of Santa Maria Maggiore at Rome, a 
picture of the Madonna, painted by him, which is said to have 
performed many miracles. Though we learn from the Apostolical 
epistles, that he was a physician, yet greater belief is given to the 
vague tradition of his having been a painter, and therefore he is^ 
made a patron of painters, and not of physicians — though, indeed, 
the latter have generally too much good sense to claim his protec- 
tion for their profession, or to be angry of his not being dubbed 
their patron. Mary Magdalen is the protector of harlots, and Ce- 
cilia of singers and musicians — and in fine, every trade, every 
profession, every malady, and every occurrence of life, have each 
and every one of them, their own particular saint and protector, 
who is worshipped by those interested with greater devotion than 
they ever worship the one and true God. The reader will easily 
discern, from what has been said on this subject, the great affinity 
there is between popery and paganism. If the pagans had their 
Mercury, their Mars, their Apollo, their Juno, and their Venus ; 
the papists have their Francis, their George, their Christopher, 
their Peter, their Cecilia, their Mary Magdalen, and, to govern all, 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 241 

they have their queen of heaven — their Madonna. But I fear the 
reader is long^ since tired by the repetition of such trash, and no 
wonder, for indeed, I have carried the subject farther than the li- 
mits of a note would warrant. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

Continuation of remarks upon image-worship — Popish unity — iHa- 
donna della lettera at Messina — The Virgin Mary a linguist — Copy 
of the Virgin's letter to the Messinians — Translation of the fore- 
going — Spain, and its idolatries — Spanish Jesuits — Spanish form 
of Salutations — Portugal — Don Miguel favored by the Priests — A 
miracle wrought in confirmation of his authority — The Virgin 
delivered of a boy twelve years old — Effect of the discovery on 
Don Miguel's Government — Concluding remarks upon image- 
worship. 

There are other celebrated Madonnas scattered, 
through the different churches of Italy; each one of 
which has its own particular history, and its own 
miracles attached to it; for popery is certainly one 
in more senses than its advocates imagine, when they 
take unity as an argument in favour of i*s being the 
true church of Christ. It is one also in its system 
of imposture; the same arts are made use of, and the 
same lies fabricated for its support in the capital of 
Spain, as in the capital of Italy; in the city of the 
false prophet, as in the country of Confucius; there 
being subjects of the pope both in the one and the 
other, as we learn from the relation of travellers, and 
as is evident from students of these countries being 
educated at the college of the Propaganda in Rome. 
Miracles then, and other lying wonders are fabricated 
on the spot by the acting ministers of popery, in 
every country where it exists; and for this reason, 
21 



242 SIX YEARS IN THE 

the idolizing of the Madonna being an essential ar- 
ticle of that church her images are all supplied with 
stories and miracles by the priests of the country, 
where such images are worshipped; differing very 
little, if any at all (for the imagination of an invent- 
or of falsehoods is with time exhausted,) from the 
miracles attributed to images of the same, worship- 
ed in very distant parts of the world. 1 shall relate 
a story of one more Italian Madonna, venerated in 
the cathedral church of Messina in Sicily, and then 
pass on to a view of image-worship, as practised in 
other parts of Europe. 

As Naples has its Januarius to protect it from the 
burning lava of Vesuvius; so also has Messina its 
Madonna to protect it from the like evil threatened 
to it from its vicinity to Mongibello, or Mount Et- 
na. The Madonna of the Messinians (called also 
'Ma Madonna della lettera) if we believe the history 
of it, as preserved in the archives of the cathedral of 
Messina, was sent down from Heaven and placed 
on the altar where it now stands, by the hands of an- 
gels; for the especial protection of the inhabitants. 
The virgin was well pleased with the Noveiias^ Tri- 
duos,S^^c,^ performed in honor of her,and to manifest 
this pleasure to her faithful people, she thought it 
advisable, (if we can use such a word, when speak- 
ing of a goddess) to send them her image manufac- 
tured in heaven, in token of it — just as a young wo- 
man makes a present of her portrait to her lover, 
in token of her love. The image was accompanied 
by a letter addressed to the bishop, clergy and laity 
of the diocess of Messina, wherein she assures them 
of her perpetual protection and favour, in reward of 

* Novena andtriduo. By such terms are meant certain days set 
apart for the more particular worship of the gods of popery. The 
former is a feast of nine days' continuance, the latter of three. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 243 

their devotion towards her, and encourages them to 
continue in rendering her the honours due to her, 
as the " mother of Christ,'^ " gate of heaven,'^ " and 
"consoler of the afflicted:" assuring them at the 
same time, that such honours paid to her were most 
pleasing to her son, Jesus; and not in the least dis- 
pleasing to him, as modern heretics, jealous of her 
glory, would insinuate. This epistle is written in 
Latin,* and enclosed in a silver case, whence it is 
never taken out, but to satisfy the curiosity of some 
dignitary of the church; or of those, who are able to 
bribe the keeper for a more close inspection of it. 
1 myself have had the honour of kissing the case, 
and of humbly repeating an " ave Maria^^ before the 
sacred scrap of paper. With much difficulty I ob- 
tained a copy of it, which I have since lost, but hav- 
ing read it so often, I feel confident, that I retain ia 
mind the form and subject — if not the very words. 
To the best of my recollection, it runs as follows. 

"Maria Virgo, mundi Redemptoris mater, Episco- 
po, clero, C3eterisque fidelibus inclytae civitatis Mes- 
sanensis salutem et benedictionem a se, suoque filio 
impertit. Quod meo cultui consulere in mentem 
vobis ventum est, magnum favorem apud me prop- 
ter hoc inveniisti, scitote. Jampridem situm peri- 
culis plenum vestrse civitatis ob ejus nimiam ad Et- 
neum ignem propinquitatem, baud sine dolore vidi, 
eaque de re non raro verba habui cum filio meo; sed 
hactenus ille propter rarum cultum mihi a vobis prse- 

* It is surprising, how learned a Lady the Madonna is, for she 
understands nearly all languages, as may be seen from the num- 
ber of her epistles written to the different Latin, Greek, and Arme- 
nian churches; all written in the ancient language of the people, 
to which they are directed; for she seems, either not to understand, 
or at least to think beneath her notice, all modern languages, as none 
of her letters are found written in Italian, or in modern Armenian 
or modern Greek. 



244 SIX YEARS IN THE 

stitum iratus, meam intercessionem audi re noluit. 
Nunc autem, vobis resipiscentibus, et cultum mei 
feliciter inchoantibus, mei juris benlgne fecit, ut ves 
trum vcstraeque civitatis seterna protectrrix essem; 
vobis veruntamen magno opere cavendum est, nl hu- 
jus erga vos boni animi poenitere causam mihi He- 
deritis. Mihi vehementer placent orationes et festa 
in meo honore indicta; et si in his rebus fideliter 
perseveraverilis, et hasreses nunc temporis per ves- 
trum orbem grassantes, quibus cultus mihi, cjetero- 
que sanctorum sanctarumque ccBtui debitus maxima 
periclitatur, summa vi obviam vosmetipsos prebueri- 
tis, mea perpetua protectione fruemini. In signo 
hujus pacti rati, imaginem mei a manibus cseleslibus 
fusam vobis e cselo dimitto; et si earn digno honore 
tenueritis, signum erit mihi obedientiae vestrae, et 
fidei. Valete. Dabam ex caelo, me sedente juxla 
thronum filii mei, anno ab ejusdem incarnatione 
millesimo, quingentesimo trige^imo, quarto, mense 
autem Decembris." 

Mary, Virgin and Mother of the Redeemer of the 
world, to the Bishop, clergy, and the other faithful of 
Messina, health and blessing from Herself and Her • 
Son. 

Because ye have taken measures for establishing 
the wort^hip of me; know, that ye have thereby 
found great favour in my sight. Long since I 
observed, not without pain, the situation of your 
city, too much exposed to danger from its conti- 
guity to the fires of Etna, and have frequently 
spoken to my son on that subject; but he being 
angry, on account of the neglect of my worship, 
which ye have been guilty of, showed himself un- 
willing to attend to my intercession. Now, how- 
ever, that ye have grown wiser, and have happily 
begun to worship me, 1 have obtained from him the 
faculty of being your eternal protectress; but I 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 245 

earnestly advise you at the same time, to be careful, 
that ye give me no cause of repenting of this my 
kindness. The prayers and festivals instituted in 
my honour are exceedingly pleasing to me, and if 
ye faithfully persevere in observing them, and in 
opposing with all your might the heresy, which at 
this time, is spreading through every part of your 
globe, by which both my worship, and that of the 
other Saints and Saintesses, is endangered; ye will 
enjoy my everlasting protection. In sign of the 
ratification of this agreement, I send you down from 
Heaven the image of myself,* cast by celestial hands, 
and if ye hold it in that honour, which it claims as 
a representation of me, ye will thereby convince 
me of your obedience and faith. Farewell. Dated 
in Heaven, whilst sitting near the throne of my son, 
in the 1534th year from his incarnation. 

Mary Virgin. 

Then follows the signature and seal of the Bishop, 
who governed the church of Messina, at that period, 
in attestation of the genuineness of this curious 
epistle; and after his name, follow those of his vicar- 
general, secretary, and of six canons of the Cathe- 
dral church. Hence may be learned the degree of 
credibility to which popish priests and bishops are 
entitled. 

Not in Italy only has the worship of the Virgin 
superseded the worship of the one and true God; 

* It would appear from this, that the image is made of brass, or 
some otlier fusible metal, though it did not appear so to me, when 
I saw it. I thought, that it was of wood, but I saw the face alone, 
which is painted, the rest of the body being clothed — of course 
then I was deceived, for it is to be presumed, that the Virgin Mary 
knew better than I possible could know, of what this image, which 
she ordered herself, and which she seems to take such trouble 
about, is composed. 

21*^ 



246 SIX YEARS IN THE 



but in other parts of Europe also, especially in Spain 
and Portugal, and indeed in every place where the 
contiguity to Evangelical Christians do not make 
the favourers ol idolatry blush. The contiguity 
with protestants is very probably the reason, that 
this article of the popish creed is so little practised 
upon in the Roman Catholic cantons of Switzerland; 
for popery approaches nearer to Christianity in the 
latter country, than I have seen it in any other part 
of Europe. In Spain, the worship of the Virgin 
with all its accompanying enormities flourishes, or, 
at least, did flourish whilst under the tyranny of the 
peiticoat-embvo'idevev ^ — the late King Ferdinand. 
Indeed the Spanish m.onarchy was as much upheld 
by" the tongues and pir^achiug of the monks and 
priests, who disseminated the slavish doctrines of 
popery, (for popery, regarded even in a political 
light, is essentially a slave making religion,) as by 
the bayonets and cannons of the Escurial. Spain 
was formerly more addicted to superstition than 
even Rome herself. She had her inquisition, and 
her inquisitors, her monks, and her friars, her nuns 
and — in fine she had all the parephernalia of the 
most abominable irrelioion. Her missionaries were 
the active agents for disseminating the anti-chris- 
tian doctrines of pojDcry, and helped to brutalize 
more, perhaps, than any other nation in the world, 
the people, who were so unfortunate as to fall under 
their sway. The Spanish Jesuits were" certainly 
the most wily of that wily body. Ignatius Loyola 
himself, was a Spaniard, and the order, which he 

* It is said, that the late king of Spain, when^oblig-ed to flee 
from Madrid on the approach of Joseph Buonaparte, and the French 
army, diverted himself at Seville, in the kingly employment of 
embroidering his wife's petticoats. He would have made a good 
man-milliner. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, tScC. 217 

instituted, is well known to the world, for the injury 
which morality and Christianity suffered through 
its malio;n influence. Its treachery and deceit was 
too gross even for Rome herself, and therefore, 
the head of the Romish church, to avoid greater 
evils, and to appease the European sovereigns, strong- 
ly crying out to a man, for its suppression, was 
obliged to take away this rock of offence from the 
e3^es of the Christian worldl Unwillingly, indeed, 
did Ganganelli — (Clement XIV.) suppress the or- 
der, for he well knew, that he exposed his own life 
to the attacks, and machinations of the Jesuits, 
His death, six months after the promulgation of the 
Bull for their suppression, fully proved, that the 
pope's fears were not without grounds; for it is re- 
lated, that he met his death by a slow poison, ad- 
ministered to him by the emissaries of the Jesuits, 
or by one of that order. Image-worship and Ma- 
donna-worship, was carried to more than pagan ex- 
cess in Spain, through Jesuitical influence. The 
common salutations of the people fully proved, that 
they thought more of the Mother, than of the Son, 
and that they could more justly be called VirgimteSj 
thanChristians. "Jive Maria piirisima, (Hail Mary, 
most pure,) answered by "Sin pecado concebida^'^ 
(Conceived without sin,) was the most frequent form 
of salutation; the more Ciiristian one of " I'^a usted 
con Dios^^ (Go with God,) being exploded by com- 
mon consent, until within a few years back. The 
churches were adorned with costly images and pic- 
tures of this goddess, and divine honours paid to 
them and to her relics. In fine, an Evangelical 
Christian, whilst travelling in this country, could 
hardly bring himself to think, that it had ever been 
favoured with the light of the Gospel; so much is 
it given up to the detestable practices of idolatry. 
Aft^r the suppression of the Jesuits, and destruction 



24S SIX YEARS IN THE 

of the inquisition, Spain apparently threw off some 
of the abominations of popery, though she still re- 
tains enough of them to m.ake her be distinguished 
among the other nations of Euiope, as a country 
having the mark of "the beast^' stamped on its fore- 
head — not indelibly^ it is hoped — and the seat of 
bigotry, tyranny, and superstition. 

What has been said of Spain, can also be said with 
equal justice, when applied to Portugal. The latter 
country was not without its own share of popish 
corruptions; indeed, popery reigned there in as 
much vigour, as in any other part of Europe. Ma- 
donnanisvi. or the idolatry of the Virgin was and 
perhaps is still practised there in all its revolting 
forms. It was renewed with fresh vigour in the 
late contest for the crown, between Don Miguel and 
his brother Don Pedro. The former, in order to 
conciliate the minds of the clergy, and through 
them, of the people, to his usurped authority, thought 
it advisable to favour every kiiid of superstition, 
and none more so, than the worship of the Madon- 
na. The priests, in return, to repay him for his 
kindness towards themselves, and to excite the po- 
pular feelit.gs in his favour, lost no opportunity of 
preaching the justice of his cause, of praising him 
for his attention to religious ceremonies, and of hold- 
ing him forth as a most holy personage, and as one 
weil worthy of governing the kingdom. They re- 
presented, on tiie other hand, his rival Don Pedro, 
as a freeTinason\ as one, wiio would subvert the re- 
ligion of the country, and who, if he got possession 
of the crown, would call down, by his inipiety, the 
curse of God and his saints upon their devoted 
heads. 

A most curious and laughable circumstance, hap- 
pened in the course of this contest at one of the 
Madonna churches, in Lisbon. There was worship- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &:C. 249 

ped in the aforesaid church an image of the Virgin, 
which was held in the greatest repute by the inha- 
bitants, in consequence of the numerous miracles 
said to be performed by it in former times. The 
priests thought, that making this image speak in 
favour of their patron, Don Miguel, would be an 
irrefutable argument with the people for his preten- 
sions. With this intention, a novena was ordered 
in honor of the image, and the church splendidly 
decorated for its celebration. The people assembled 
in crowds from all parts of the city, to pay their 
devoirs to the Virgin, and to hear the paneo;yric 
preached in her honour. The preacher, after enu- 
merating the many benefits, temporal and spiritual, 
which the people derived from their devotion to the 
Queen of Heaven, and after relating the many mi- 
racles performed by the image, then and there wor- 
shipped; turning towards the image itself, and cast- 
ing himself on his knees before it, (in which idola- 
trous act he was imitated by his audience,) he ad- 
dressed to it a fervent prayer, for the good of the 
church, and implored it to manifest by a miracle, 
whether she was well pleased, that Don Miguel 
should reign over the kingdom of Portugal. The 
image, (viirabile dictu! ) at the conclusion of this 
fervid appeal, bowed its head in sign of assent three 
times in succession, before the eyes of the assembled 
multitude, all of which, with one voice, simultane- 
ously cried out "« miracle^ a miracle^ long live 
Miguel L the chosen of the Vii^gin, and the 
beloved of Heaven.^^ This miracle was repeated 
frequently on the following days of the festival, and 
in presence of a still greater concourse, attracted by 
its fame, which spread in an incredibly short time, 
not only through Lisbon, but through the greater 
part of Portugal. It was even repeated by the Mi- 
guelite officers to their soldiers at the head of the 



250 SIX liEAKS IN THE 

ranksj and had, as it was intended, the effect of ex- 
citing their zeal in the cause of the petty tyrant — as 
Miguel proved himself to be for the comparatively 
short time that he was in possession of the usurped 
throne. 

The last day but one, however, of its acting was 
destined to open the eyes of the people, and to give 
them an idea of what priestcraft is capable, in order 
to arrive at its ends. At the close of the sermon, 
and when the preacher turned, as usual, to apostro- 
phise the image, and to implore it to signify its plea- 
sure, and assent to MiguePs government by moving 
the head, as it had done the seven preceding days, 
since the commencement of the noz;e77a, the image 
retained its inanimate position to the great disap- 
pointment of the people, whose expectations were so 
highly wound up, and to the consternation of the 
priests, who were privy to the cheat. The request 
was repeated with some additional flowers of rheto- 
ric from the preacher and the most stunning vocifera- 
tionsfromthe people: butall in vain: the image neither 
moved its head; nor changed its position. At length, 
on the preacher^s repeating the request the third 
time, and hinting, that the Virgin was angry on ac- 
count of the presence of some free-mason«, who min- 
gled through curiosity among the crowd of worship- 
pers; a voice was heard issuing from tlie inside of 
the image, and complainingly crying out, "It is not 
my fault, that the Virgin does not move her head 
for I have pulled the cord, till it broke; and what 
can I do more?" The voice was distinctly heard by 
every one; but the speaker was invisible. At last, 
one of those present, more courageous than the rest, 
attempted to approach the image, but was repulsed 
repeatedly by the priests, who well knew the con- 
sequence of the discovery; but being seconded by 
some others equally desirous of unravelling the mys- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 251 

tery he at length succeeded in coming close to it, 
and on removing the folds of the garments, with 
which such like images are decked out, he found an 
opening in the side, large enough for the admittance 
of a grown boy, whom he pulled out from the vis- 
cera of the Virgin, and who was immediately re- 
cognised as the nephew of the bishop, placed there 
by his uncle — for what purpose, it does not require 
an extraordinary degree of acuteness to guess. The 
whole secret w^as now explained, the people met the 
discovery with the ridicule it so well merited, and 
little was wanting, that they did not massacre, on 
the spot, the impostors, who got up the cheat. These 
thought it their best plan to consult for their own 
safety by flight, which they immediately made good 
through the doors of the sacristy, amid the hisses 
and curses of the infuriated populace. Miguel's 
cause lost many a good and powerful advocate by 
the failure of this imposture, and he was obliged to 
again have recourse to hisusual remedies — the sword 
and dagger— to keep the inhabitants in any degree of 
subjection to his authority. The poor Madonna, or 
rather her image, was now disgraced for ever, and 
removed in a short time from the church altogether. 
Indeed it seems surprising, that the enraged populace 
did not tear it asunder, as the vile instrument of 
a wily priesthood for propagating their monstrous 
doctrines and extending the reign of darkness. It 
may, very probably, make its appearance again on the 
theatre of priestcraft, in the character of some mira- 
cle-working Madonna sent down from heaven, if 
not used for fire-w^ood, before a favourable opportu- 
nity presents of bringing it forward for that purpose; 
or it may be baptized with the name of some minor 
saintess, into v^hich a new coat of paint could easily 
transform it; or in fine, it may be sold by the sacris- 
tan to some farmer, to be used by him for a Priapus 



252 SIX YEARS IN THE 

to frighten the birds from his newly-sown corn-fields. 
It is reasonable to suppose, that ninety-nine out of a 
hundred — yes, and the hundredth too — of popish 
miracles, if examined, as the foregoing has been, 
would be found nothing else than the machinations 
of the priests endeavouring to establish some favour- 
ite doctrine, or to bring about something, which may 
be profitable to themselves, as individuals, or to the 
whole church in general w^hich they swear to sup- 
port, per fas et nefas^ to carry through thick and 
thin. 

I have been thus diffuse on the subject of images 
and image-worship; because it is a doctrine fondly 
adhered to by the church of Rome, and cherished as 
one of its most essential and vital dotrmas. The 
Scriptural dogmas, held in common by all, wiio take 
the revealed word as guide of their faith, is but of 
secondary consideration in the Romish church; some 
of them, as justification by faith, being exploded al- 
together, %vhilst those that are retained are so cov- 
ered over with tlie filth of human inventions, that 
they may be said to be exploded too — at least practi- 
cally. Of the latter class are tbe atonement of 
Christ, the influence of the divine spirit, the admin- 
istration of the sacraments, and many other essential 
doctrines of which it is needless to make explicit 
mention in this place; all hidden under a monstrous 
mass of unscriptural leaven, which renders them 
of little, or no avail to the salvation of man. 
For these are substituted prayers to, and adoration, 
of, saints, purgatory, adoration of relics, &c. I shall 
now proceed to examine another species of soul-kill- 
ing idolatry — that of relics. It flows sua sponte 
from the invocation of saints and image-worship, 
and like these, is universally practised by the be- 
nighted followers of popery, and preached by its 
wily and error propagating ministers. It will be 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 253 

seen by the following account of this superstition 
that it is carried to as great excess, as image-worship 
itself, whose daughter it is, and that like it, it is the 
source of no small emolument to the priests, who let 
no opportunities slip of inculcating it as a most holy 
and wholesome doctrine. Whether it be so, or not, 
I shall let the reader decide. It is enough for me to 
give an account of how it is actually practised. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Relics — Practice of the primitive church — Relic worship estab- 
lished by the pope — Manner of procuring saint-bodies — The 
three heads of John the Baptist — The offal of the charnel-houses 
made the object of a Christian's adoration — St. Crispin of Viter- 
bo — St. Spiridione — Contest between the Greeks and Latins, for 
the possession of his body — Relic-worship at Malta — Maltese 
<2uack-doctor — Relics preserved in the church of St. John at Malta 
— Attempt to steal a relic — Anecdotes of the plague at Malta — 
Translation of a Saint's body from the catacombs at Rome to 
Malta— Stupendous miracle performed by touching the foregoing 
body — Reflections — Milk of the Virgin Mary — Shrine of Thomas 
a Becket at Canterbury — Henry VIJI., and his myrmidons — 
Relation of the manner, in which the Virgin's milk found its 
way to the monastery of St. Mary's, near Falmouth — Conclud- 
ing remarks on relic worship. 

Papists understand by reliquiae or relics, the 
remains of the bodies, or clothes, or of any other 
thing belonging, or supposed to have belonged, to 
the saints and martyrs, worshipped as gods in their 
church. The instruments by which martyrs were 
put to death, the \AooA collected on that occasion, 
and even the very water in which their bodies were 
washed, are also numbered among the most esteem- 
22 



254 SIX YEARS IN THE 

ed relics; and happy is he who can get possession — 
it matters little, how — of any of these holy things. 
These things are carried about in procession, pre- 
served in gold and silver cases, kissed, bowed down 
to, and adored in many other idolatrous ways. 
The respect paid to the martyrs, and to the first 
teachers of the Christian faith, by the Christians of 
the first ao;es of the church, who were accustomed 
to assemble at their tombs, for the purpose of ho- 
nouring their memories and for prayer, seems to 
have given rise to this superstition, and to have dege- 
nerated in subsequent ages, into the detestable system 
of relic-worship, which is now practised in the 
church of Rome. The primitive Christians, doubt- 
less, had no other intention for assembling at the 
cemeteries of the martyrs, (where by the way — 
many, who were not martyrs, nor even pious Chris- 
tians, were also buried) than for the purpose of 
praj'er, and religious exercise, especially as such 
places were generally more retired, and as they 
could there enjoy communion with God, without 
being interrupted by their pagan persecutors. They 
had not even thought upon extending their venera- 
tion for the virtues of their departed brethren, far- 
ther than a simple regard for their memories, with- 
out expecting or desiring that any benefits, either 
temporal or spiritual, might follow to themselves 
from this pious commemoration of them. Their 
hopes of obtaining blessings were grounded upon a 
surer foundation — on the promises of Christ him- 
self, who directed them to ask " the Father in his 
name^^ — and in no other name. They were well 
aware, then, that the prayers and intercession of 
their departed friends, would avail them but little; 
and accordingly honoured their memories by imi- 
tating their lives, and not in worshipping their 
bones. Little did they imagine, however, that their 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 255 

posterity would assume those simple usages as argu- 
ments in favour of idolatry — for, let papists say 
what they may, image-worship and relic-worship, 
virtually amounts to, and in fact, can be called by no 
other name: that, what was intended for a simple 
mark of respect for the memories of those, by whose 
perseverance and labours, the glad tidings of salva- 
tion reached themselves, should be made a prece- 
dent for partly destroying the effects to be expected 
from the more general knowledge of the gospel, and 
for dishonouring God, by robbing him of his glory, 
and bestowing it upon his creatures. Had they 
foreseen, that such conclusions would or could be 
drawn from their actions, it is very probable, nay, 
it is certain, that they would sooner have assembled 
for prayer in the idol-temples, and among pagans 
themselves, rather than afford an opportunity to 
posterity of misinterpreting their intention, by as- 
sembling at the cemeteries of martyrs. 

After the establishment of image-worship and the 
invocation of saints in the church, it was very easy 
to make the addition of another species of idolatry, 
near akin to the former — I mean that of relic-wor- 
ship. It was not deemed sufficient by the go- 
vernors of the church, to worship the images of the 
saints, and to invoke their intercession, attributing 
to them the power of curing all diseases, of working 
miracles, and of obtaining eternal life for their wor- 
shippers, by pleading their own merits at the foot 
of the Almighty's throne: No, this was not suffi- 
cient to satisfy the thirst for gain, for which the 
popish clergy, secular and regular, were, and still 
are remarkable in every place, which has been, or 
is, cursed by their presence. They hit upon an ex- 
pedient, by which a new trade was opened for them, 
a new market for the sale of their impositions. This 
was no other, than exciting a veneration for the 



256 SIX YEARS IN THE 

relics of those, to whom they themselves assigned 
a place in Heaven — for many, it may be supposed, 
prayed to, and honoured as saints, were not worthy 
of a place even in their own purgatory. As soon 
as this new article of Christianity began to be preach- 
ed, the relic mania began. Jaw-bones, fingers, 
thumbs, teeth, pairings of the nails, the beard, and 
even the obscene parts of the bodies (e. g. the holy 
prepuce of Christ ; which is actually worshipped at 
Rome,) of those, who were before honoured as saints, 
began to be sought after with the greatest diligence; 
happy was he, who could possess any part of such and 
invaluable things; for then he held himself secure 
from all assaults and devices of the devil, from pes- 
tilence, and contagion ; from every thing in fine, 
which could endanger his temporal or spiritual inter- 
ests. The priests, seeing how well their bait took, 
instituted prayers and fastings for imploring the di- 
rection of Heaven in finding the body of some mar- 
tyr or other saint. The body was always found in 
some secret place, where it had before been convey- 
ed by the priests, who then blasphemously gave 
out, that the prayers and fastings of the faithful had 
prevailed upon God to manifest the body of his 
saint, to increase their devotion, and afford a help 
for salvation to his people. 1 he stinking carcass 
being conveyed processionally to the church, to be 
there deposited, under the altar or in some other 
sacred place; the earth, in which it was buried, ac- 
quired also a degree of sanctity by being honoured 
with its touch, and was accordingly eilher carried 
away by the priests, and afterwards sold at its 
weight of gold to their deluded followers, or else 
violently taken or stolen (for it became by right the 
priest^s property,) by the mob assembled on the oc- 
casion. Many, when the catacombs of Rome, and 
other charnel-houses were exhausted, undertooklong 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY^ &C. 257 

and hazardous journeys lo the eastern provinces of 
the Roman empire, in order to procure these safe- 
guards against the evils of the world. The countries 
formerly honoured by the presence of Christ and 
his apostles, were more especially the places, where 
they hoped to be enriched with this new kind of 
treasure. The vvily, artful G-reeks, becoming aware 
of the delusions of the Latins, soon found them 
relics enough, and thereby enriched themselves by 
selling, as the bones and remains of Christian saints, 
the offals of their charnel-houses. Every thing, like 
a bone, or any thing, that could possib/y appertain 
to the human body, was sold at extraordinary prices. 
Many bones, said to belong to the bodies of depart- 
ed saints, were in reality the bones of pagans, and 
a great number were not even human. These, how- 
ever, purchased at a great price, were borne in tri- 
umph to the western churches by their happy pur- 
chasers, and either retailed with profit to those who 
were rich enough and foolish enough to buy them, 
or bestowed, through devotion, on some church, 
which was not as yet in possession of such ti*easures: 
in either case, they were always held up as an ob- 
ject of devotion to the deluded people. In this way, 
the Latin churches come to the possession of the 
relics of St. Mark, St. James, St. Bartholomew, St. 
Cyprian, which they show to this day with so much 
ostentation. Some, who were too poor to purchase 
relics, but were yet unwilling to be without such 
inestimable remedies against all evils, did not scru- 
ple to break into the churches by night (for every 
thing is lawful, if successful, in a cause of this na- 
ture,) or into the houses of those in possession of 
relics, and rob them of the coveted treasures. The 
priests, in the mean time, did not neglect to turn 
to their own advantage, this infatu-ation of the peo- 
ple. They saw the success of their relic-stratagem, 

22*^ 



25S SIX YEARS IN THE 

and did not let the opportunity slip of enriching 
themselves. They were made the sole masters of the 
relics, and they caused a decree to be issued, that no 
relic should be worshipped, or believed genuine be- 
fore it had passed throuj^h their hands, and had been 
stamped with their infallible authority, A shop for 
the sale of relics was established at Rome, by autho 
rity of the pope, which is open to this day, the pope 
having discovered relics to be a profitable com- 
merce, and falling little short of indulgences them- 
selves. In this shop were manufactured, or at least, 
baptised relics, to be afterwards sent to order, to all 
parts of the Christian world. From this shop, were 
sent forth the three heads of John the Baptist, which 
have divine honours paid to them in three of the 
principal Italian cities : Florence, Capua, and Reg- 
gio; each armed with the pontifical seal, and with a 
written paper, confirmatory of its genuineness.* 

* I have had the honour myself, of kissing two of these heads; the 
one adored at Capua, and the one at Florence. I have been assur- 
ed, by a Calabrian priest, that these two are spurious ; and that the 
genuine one is adored, {si adora, w^ere his words,) in his native 
city, Reggio. This he informed me under a strict injunction to 
secrecy. Would it be impious to doubt of the genuineness of all 
three ? It would, the papist answers, because the pope has con- 
firmed their genuineness w^ith his infallible authority ! What ! 
of all three ? Yes, of all three, for who can limit the power of the 
vicar of Christ. Such, in reality, was the question I once started 
to a brother monk, and one that was no fool neither, and such 
was the answ^er I received ! I remember an anecdote of a French 
Abbe, of rather liberal principles, to whom were shown, whilst 
travelling in Italy, the three heads of the Precursor of the Lord. 
On seeing, at Reggio, the last head of the three, for he had already 
seen the other two at Florence and Capua, he laughingly remark- 
ed to the priest, who held it up to be kissed, that "his saintship, 
John Baptist, was really a philanthropical saint, for he converted 
his own head into three, in order to benefit, by its presence, the 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 259 

Since relics, and relic-worship, became so much 
in vogue, and was found so profitable a cheat, it 
was thought expedient to issue a deoree, dated from 
the cify of bulls, and signed by the arch-cheat him- 
self, by which it was ordained, that after.one month 
from the date of it, in Italy, and after three months, 
in those countries situated on the other side of the 
Alps,* no church should be consecrated for divine 
service, unless it possessed a holy carcass to be de- 
posited under the great altar; and that churches al- 
ready consecrated, and not having the requisite re- 
lic, should, within the same space, be provided with 
it, under pain of having their rites interdicted, and 
their clergy, or ministers, ipso facto, excommuni- 
cated. In the same bull, the faithful are admonish- 
ed to provide themselves with the relics of the 
saints, which they may wear as amulets about their 
persons, or keep in their houses, as protection 
against the efforts of the devil, and against the ac- 
cidents and misfortunes, which, more or less, attend 
every man during his pilgrimage through this world. 
This bull was manifestly designed to compel the 
faithful to purchase the bodies taken from the cata- 
combs, and other cemeteries, in Rome, and dubbed 
by tlie pope's infallible authorit}^, the bodies of 
martyrs, and other saints; and which were lying on 
hand in the pope's relic-shop, at Rome. It is but 
fair to add, that this custom of shutting up putrified 

three different cities that were beatified with the possession of it." 
So much for French levity — but many Frenchmen are infidels. 
No wonder, when such monstrosities are proposed to their belief. 

* I don't remember the year in which this bull was promul- 
gated, and not having by me a bullary^ or hook of hulls, I have 
not an opportunity of correcting the fault of my memory. I be- 
lieve, however, that it was in some part of the tenth century, 
am not certain. 



260 SIX YEARS IN TPIE 

carcasses in the altars, and other parts of the Chris- 
tian churches, can boast of a more ancient origin, 
for we find it ordained by a council held in Con- 
stantinople in the middle of the fourth century, that 
those altars should be demolished, under which 
there were found no relics; and St. Ambrose, bishop 
of Milan, refused to consecrate a church because it 
had no relics. This custom, however, soon died 
away, both because no virtue was ever attached to 
the relics themselves, even by the Christians of the 
fourth century, at which time the church began to 
fall off from Gospel purity, and because the zealous, 
scriptural Christians saw that it would be affording 
a bad precedent to future ages, and would induce 
the simple to attribute to bones, and other species 
of relics, a virtue which they did not, and, indeed, 
could not possess. It was, therefore, suffered to fail 
into disuse; nor was it again revived, till the estab- 
lishment of image-worship, in the ninth century, 
brought it forward, as has been already related. 
The pope, and his priests, soon found the good ef- 
fects to their pockets, proceeding from the promul- 
gation of the relic-establishing bull, for the deluded 
people were compelled to buy up the carcasses at the 
owners' prices, or else have their churches shut up, 
or remaining unconsecrated, and their ministers ex- 
communicated. The pope soon disposed of his 
stock of relics, and emptied the charnel-houses of 
their dirt; and all this WMth the greatest advantage 
to himself, and his priests, without mentioning how 
much it conduced to the purity of the air, thus freed 
from the pestilent exhalations of rotten bones. It 
must be admitted, however, that the greater num- 
ber of the people swallowed the bait held out to 
them almost as willingly as their rulers extended it; 
but this is no argument in favour of its lawfulness, 
as this willingness to be duped on the part of the 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &G. 261 

people, is but the effect of the endeavours and preach- 
ing of the nninisters of relic-worship; it alwaj^s re- 
maining to be accounted for, by what authority, or 
under what lawful pretext the offal of the charnel- 
house should be attern])ted to be made the object of 
a Christian's worship and devotion. Some of the 
learned men of the day, and no small number of 
the clergy, cried out loudly against the abuse, but 
these, being few in number, compared to the oppo- 
site party — the advocates for relics — were obliged, 
in a short time, to be silent, and bear with patience 
an evil they could not prevent: or if they persisted 
in opposing the progress of it, they incurred per- 
sonal risk, and came under the surveillance of the 
papal court, which had the power of soon stopping 
their mouths with a vengeance. 

The greater number of saint-bodies to be found 
under the altars of the different churches of Italy, 
and other popish countries, were taken from the ca- 
tacombs at Rome. These were the common recep- 
tacles for the dead for many ages: it may then be 
supposed, that all who died during the earlier ages 
of the church, till the reign of Constantino, were not 
all Christians, and, consequently, no saints. But 
all being buried indiscriminately, according to the 
best authority, in this common burial-place, how 
then can relic-worshippers distinguish between the 
bodies of Christian martyrs and those of pagan 
malefactors. The difficulty is got over in the fol- 
lowing manner. If the pope's relic-store should be 
exhausted by a great demand for hoi}— carcasses, it is 
again replenished from the catacombs. His Holiness 
appoints a day for a procession to these caverns, 
when, accompanied by all the secular and regular 
clergy of the holy city, he intends to make the se- 
lection of such bodies as may be wanted to supply 
the demands made by the faithful. The difficulty 



262 SIX YEARS IN THE 

of distinguishing between pagan and Christian bones, 
seems to be well known and acknowleged, for the 
^'Veni Creator Spiritus/^ or the invocation of the 
Holy Ghost, is chanted by the assembled clergy, 
and a Latin prayer, (the Latin church never ad- 
dresses the Deity in any other language,) is read, 
by which the Divine assistancejanddirectionsfrom on 
high, is sought for the performance of this, (to them,) 
solemn duty. The pope then casts his eyes around 
the confused mass of mouldering skeletons, and, as 
the wdiim may take him, calls tills the body oi saint 
such-a-one, another, the body of "Virgin some-other- 
one — and so on, till he is vvarned by his attendants, 
that enough are now baptised^ {hattezati^ is the 
the name Romanists give to the bodies of the saints 
chosen in this manner,) to serve for the present oc- 
casion. The rotten bones are then carefully col- 
lected, and, having been sprinkled with holy water, 
are placed in a chest prepared for that purpose, and 
carried in procession to the Vatican, where there is 
a room purposely set apart for the preparation and 
sale of relics — the same that has been before called 
a ^' relic-shop. '^^ They are then handed over to some 
one, w^hose duty it is to arrange the bones anatomi- 
cally, supplying those that are wanting with purified 
wax, and covering over what rem.ains of the coun- 
tenance, with a waxen mask made to life, so that it 
approaches very near the natural countenance, and 
would lead one to imagine that it is really the in- 
corruptible flesh of the sanctified mummy. 

The skilfulness to which they have reached, of 
making putrid bones assume the appearance of a 
human body, whence the soul is just departed, has 
given rise to the many lying fables related, concern- 
ing the incorruptibility of the bodies of favourite 
saints, so fondly believed by some sensible mem- 
bers of the popish communion. I have been more 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 263 

than once deceived myself, while looking at made- 
up bodies of this kind, and firmly believed that the 
sanctity of the men whose bodies they were report- 
ed to be, had kept their flesh from the fate attending 
the bodies of all men without exception — pulveri- 
zation and corruption : indeed it requires to touch 
the bodies themselves, from which visiters are re- 
strained by the cases — some of silver, with a small 
opening of glass — others entirely of glass — to be 
able to detect the imposition. 

There is worshipped in the church of the Im- 
maculate Conception^ at Rome, a body of this 
kind, which is enough to deceive the most acute, 
so well has it been got up, and made to imitate 
nature. It is called the body of the " blessed 
Crispin, of Viterbo," a Capuchin lay-brother, 
whom monkish impudence chose to have en- 
rolled in the number of the gods. He has been 
dead more than 150 years; yet his body, placed in 
a shrine built at an enormous expense for his wor- 
ship, appears as if deprived of life but yesterday. 
On first seeing it, the monk who showed it assured 
me that it was the real incorruptible body of the 
saint whose name it bears, and that it would be a 
heresy to doubt its genuineness. The sight of the 
body itself obliged me to give credit to his false as- 
sertion, not indeed false, as far as he was concern- 
ed, because he only asserted what he conscientiously 
thought the truth: — the eyes, the mouth, the colour 
— even the beard, all and every thing so much re- 
sembling flesh and blood. So perfect is this imita- 
tion, and so forcibly is the imposition eulogized hy 
the panegyrists of St. Crispin, that his shrine is 
daily surrounded by the devotees of Rome, each of 
whom brings his gift, either in money, or in wax- 
candles, in order to propitiate the intercession of 
his waxen saintship. A box is appended at the foot 
of the altar, with a hole in the middle, large enough 



2Q4 SIX TEARS IN THE 

to admit a dollar; and from this box is supplied many 
a delicacy to the gormandizing monks. Festivals 
and tridiios are held in honour of this mummy, by 
which the gains of the mummy-owners — the monks 
— are very much increased. It is needless to men- 
tion, that this body, so tirmly believed by the peo- 
ple to be incorrupt, and also believed to be so by 
the greater part of the monks themselves, is nothing 
more than a few mouldering bones kept together by 
wax, and transformed by the same into a resemblance 
of the human frame. Alas! popery, how deceitful 
thou art! 

At Corfu, one of the Ionian islands, there is 
also another lot of sanctified bones, christened ^' the 
body of St. Spiridione,'^ which are worshipped 
most idolatrously by the Greeks, as well as the La- 
tins, of this island. The bod}^, made up in the man- 
ner before described, is deposited in a massive chest 
of solid silver, which requires, on account of its 
great weight, the strength of four men tosuppoit it, 
when carried in procession, as it frequently is, 
through the streets of Corfu. Its shrine is in the 
Greek church, called after the saint, with whose pu- 
trid bones it is honoured, "Spiridione." This body 
has been the apple of contention between the fol- 
lowers of the eastern and western churches of this 
island for many years. Very few knew who or what 
Spiridione was, yet all affirm that he was a great 
saint. It is equally unknown how his body found 
its way to the island, or what wind drove it there; 
for all confess that he was not a Corfuote. This 
mystery, in which the knowledge, or rather no 
knowledge of his country, and the acquisition of 
his body, is involved, far from lessening, has, on 
the contrary, tended to increase the people's devo- 
tion for him. The Latins, taking advantage of the 
obscurity in which his history is involved, affirm 
that he was a bishop of their own church, and a 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 265 

most zealous adherent of the pope's: they paint 
him, accordingly, with a mitre and crozier, and, un- 
der such a form, his picture is adored by them. The 
Greeks, on the other hand, assert, that he was the 
friend and companion of Photius, patriarch of Jeru- 
salem, who, in the middle of the ninth century, 
caused the Greek church to separate from the Latin, 
on account of the errors of the latter; and that he 
was waylaid and miudered by emissaries from the 
pope, by whom he had the honour of being excom- 
municated. He is, therefore, placed by theOreeks 
in the number of their martyrs, and painted by them 
with blood issuing from a wound in his breast, 
which he is in the act of receiving from two grim- 
looking villains, dressed in the habit of Latin monks. 
The Latins, when Corfu was under Venetian do- 
minion, having the force on their side, took the 
liberty of transporting Spiridione — case and all, 
which very probably the priests coveted more than 
the bones, as being of greater value — from the Greek 
church into their own cathedral, pleading in excuse 
for this act of violence, the sin of permitting a Ro- 
man Catholic saint to be worshipped in a schisma- 
tic church. This excited a rebellion, on the part of 
the Greeks, against the tyranny of the Venetians, 
which was not suppressed without the loss of many 
lives — sacrificed, no doubt, to appease the bones of 
the contested saint. Some thirty years after, a new 
governor being sent from Venice, he thought it 
would be a good way to gain popularity, and pro- 
pitiate the affections of the Greeks, or, perhaps, 
— which is more likely — being bribed thereto by a 
good sum of money, (the Venetian governors of the 
Ionian islands w^ere proverbially venal,) to use 
his influence with the Doge and senate to have 
Spiridione restored to his former owners. With 
much difficulty, and after surmounting the obstacles 
23 



266 SIX YEARS IN THE 

placed in the way by the Latin side, he at length 
succeeded, and Spiridione changed masters again, 
or rather returned to his former ones, and was trium- 
phantly replaced in his former shrine, poorer, how- 
ever, by some thirty pounds of silver, which the 
Latins thought fit to subtract from the weight of his 
coffin — to make it more portable, to be sure, and in 
compassion to the miserable porters. The Greeks 
complained loudly of this robbery, but what could 
they do? A place for appeal was no where, for the 
very judges had share of the plunder! They were, 
therefore, obliged to bear up with the loss, and con- 
sole themselves with the possession of their saint, 
and with the remainder of his riches; some of the 
Latins remarking, that thirty pounds was the least 
he could give the Latin church in payment for his 
entertainment and lodging there for more than thir- 
ty years. Spiridione remains in possession of the 
Greeks down to the present time, nor is there any 
likelihood of their again losing him, till, guided by 
the Spirit of Truth, and by His precious Word, they 
throw aside, of their own accord, his degrading wor- 
ship, and convert his silver case into something of 
real service to their island, leaving his body to re- 
turn to the dust from which it was created, if, in- 
deed, the bones that are shown as his ever formed 
the part of* a human body; a thing, in itself, a mat- 
ter of doubt. The worship of Spiridione, as now 
practised at Corfu, is idolatrous in the extreme — 
perhaps Vincenzo Ferreri is not more idolatrously 
worshipped at Valentia, nor St. Peter at Rome, 
than he is in that island; for certainly the supersti- 
tious and idolatrous rites practised at his shrine can 
hardly be surpassed. It is remarkable, and at the 
same time surprising, how England allows her po- 
licy to get the better of her religion. The British 
soldiers quartered in this island have positive or- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 267 

ders from their general to present arms to the bones 
and images of this saint, as they are carried along 
in procession through the streets; the bones by the 
Greeks, and images and pictures by the Latins. 
Nor is this all: a gaard of honour, commanded by a 
commissioned officer, is always in attendance on 
every solemn occasion, and drawn up in front of the 
church, to do honour to the relics of this idol: thus 
is a British soldier obliged to sacrifice his duty to 
God to his duty as a soldier. This may be good 
policy, but very bad religion, and serves to confirm 
the other continental nations in their ideas of Eng- 
lish religion; for it is no uncommon thing for an 
Italian, when he wishes to express his opinion of 
the want of religion in one of his acquaintances, to 
exclaim "Quello ha di religione qitanto u?i In- 
glese:^^ — He has as much religioii^as an English- 
man; meaning to say, h-e has none at all. 

Malta, another, and, indeed, the chief British col- 
ony in the Mediterranean, is also remarkable in the 
annals of superstition for its servile adherence to the 
doctrines of popery, which are there practised upon 
in full vigour, and under the most disgusting forms. 
This island is supposed to have been converted to 
the Christian faith by St. Paul, who was shipwrecked 
on a part of it, known at this day by the name of 
" Porto di San Paulo^^ Whether this be true or 
not, that is whether the Melita on which St. Paul 
was cast ashore after the shipwreck, as related in the 
Acts, corresponds, with the modern Malta; — and 
some doubt it, and give their reasons for doubting 
it from the description of Paul himself, as given in 
the Acts — it is certain, that St. Paul never taught 
the Maltese the farrago of superstition, which later 
ages have substituted in their island for pure Christi- 
anity. Indeed, were he to be cast ashore again on 
this island in the present century^ as he is reported 



^68 SIX YEARS IN THE 

to have been in the first; he could with as much jus- 
lice, style the inhabitants " barbarians^^ (the name 
by which he has designated them in his account of 
the shipwreck) at this very time, and in the modern 
signification of the word too, as he had before done 
in its relative sense — because they were not Romans, 
nor Roman colonists. Popery has done her work 
in this island, as is manifest in the ignorance of the 
inhabitants, not one out of a hundred of which can 
read, and has succeeded to her heart's content in 
brutalizing a people naturally of a ready wit, and su- 
perior capacity for the arts and sciences. Instead, 
however, of this island's producing artists and scho- 
lars, which it certainly would, were it not cursed by 
the degrading yoke of popery, it now produces no- 
thing else than pick-pockets and cut throats, quacks 
and priests, who, unable to find a subsistence in their 
own island, scatter themselves through the Levant, 
and bear with them the vices, which they learned 
at home under the fostering care of priestcraft. The 
Turks and other inhabitants of the Levant are so con- 
vinced of the evildispositionof theill-taughtMaltese, 
that they call all roguish foreigners by that name; for 
Maltese, in their language, is as much as to say, per- 
fidious, roguish and blood-lhirsty. On this account 
every gentlemanly Maltese is obliged to deny his 
country, when he travels in the Levant; or else he 
is liable to be suspected of having the same virtuous 
dispositions, for which his countrymen have ren- 
dered themselves so famous or rather infamous,^ 

* A Maltese quack-doctor of the name of Caruana was confined 
in the consular prison at Damascus for nearly three months, until 
the Consul could receive advice from the government of Malta of 
the manner in which he ought to be punished for his crimes. Hav- 
ing obtained by an affected knowledge of physic, a footing in some 
Turkish villages, four or fjve days journey distant from Damas- 
cus, and the plague having broke out there during that time, he, 
in order to increase his gains was discovered throwing by nigh 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 269 

If St. Paul were to land on their island now-a- 
days, he would find greater difficulty in turning 
them away from the infamous lives, which they lead 
through the demoralizing influence of popery, and 
of converting them from their Christanized idolatry, 
than he formerly had in converting them from 
Paganism to Christianity. — But to return from this 
digression. 

Relic-worship is carried on in this island to a 
monstrous excess. The knights of St. John of 
Jerusalem, after their expulsion from Rhodes, trans- 
ferred the head quarters of their half-religious, half- 
military order to this barren rock, ai)d with it, 
brought also ail the most revolting superstitions of 
popery. Relic-worship was not the least of these; 
for all the churches built by them, after having been 
confirmed in the possession of the island, are well 

the infected clothes of those that died, into the houses of the other 
inhabitants. The ruffian, not content with the number he killed 
by his ignorance of medicine in which he pretended to be skilled, 
felt no scruple in infecting the other inhabitants; because he ex- 
pected to be called to their assistance, and fill his pockets accord- 
ingly. He was caught in the act, and little was wanted, that he 
was not torn asunder by the enraged Turks. There were found 
about his person, when taken, various valuables pilfered from hou- 
ses of the rich inhabitants, by whom he was consulted as a physi- 
cian, and most of whom died under his hands. The Turkish gov- 
ernment, not having the power of punishing him, as living under 
British protection, had him escorted to the British consulate, and 
loudly cried out for his instant execution ; for had he been a Turk, 
be would not be allowed to live two hours after his conviction. 
This same fellow was nephew to the present bishop of Malta. This 
may serve as an example of Maltese roguery, and is only one out 
of many equally criminal, whilst I could give. But their religion 
and the manner they are taught by their soul-killing priests are in 
fault, not themselves. The same fellow would find absolution for 
the murders he had committed from Monsignor his uncle, upon his 
return to Malta. 

23^ 



270 SIX YEARS IN THE 

supplied with a plenteous stock of such trumpery. 
The body of St. — (1 don't remember his name, but 
it is of little importance — ) who is said to have been 
consecrated bishop of the island by St. Paul is here 
worshipped by the stupid Maltese with the same ar- 
dour, and the same unseemly rites that Spiridione 
is worshipped at Corfu. 

The principal church of Valletta, the capital of the 
island, is dedicated to St. John the Baptist. It may 
be supposed, that a people so fond of idolatry, and 
more especially of that branch of it called '^relic- 
worship/' would not want for some relic belonging 
to this their favourite saint: the supposition is perfect- 
ly just, for they glory in the possession of no less 
than three. They ostentatiously show the identical 
sword with which John was beheaded by order of 
Herod; three of his teeth extracted by the execu- 
tioner after performing his office; and a part of the 
camel-skin (to me it appeared a piece of the untanned 
skin of a Maltese ass, a very fine rnce of which are 
bred on the island) with which he was clothed. 
These relics were purchased at an extraordinary 
price from the pope's relic shop at Rome by the 
Knights, who spared no expense in providing what- 
ever might be deemed necessary for exciting the 
public devotion, on which, more than on the force of 
their arms, they relied for the favour of the public. 

A dish, said to be the one in which the head of 
John was presented to Herodias, is preserved as a 
relic in Teramo, a town in the Kingdom of Naples. 
The legend attached to this relic relates, that an im- 
mense sum of money was offered for it by the 
Knights of St. John of Jerusalem in order to trans- 
fer it to their church at Malta; but the people and 
clergy of the former city refused to deliver up for 
love or money so valuable a treasure; " for they well 
knew/^ sensibly continues the Legendist, " that the 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 271 

safety and protection of their city depended upon the 
safe keeping of it.'^ The Knights, finding that they 
could not have it for money, sent four chosen men 
from Malta, who were instructed to break into the 
church by night and carry off the treasure; being 
promised, if they succeeded, a great reward. They 
were taken in the act of breaking open the iron-box, 
in which, for greater security, it was kept, and being 
carried before the magistrates, they confessed the 
whole plot, and threw all the blame upon the devo- 
tion, that the Knights of Malta had to any thing be- 
longing to their holy patron. This story if true, 
may be a guide forjudging of the estimation in which 
the three relics they already possessed were held by 
the Knights of St. John, and of the immense sum 
they must have given the pope for them, whereas 
they offered so much monkey, and went to so much 
trouble to obtain one of less consequence, as the 
holy charger certainly is, when compared with the 
three teeth of St, John, not to mention the sword 
and a piece of his holy camel-skin. 

A great many miracles, noted down as they occur- 
red in a book kept for that purpose, are attributed to 
these fictitious relics, which are supposed by the su- 
perstitious Maltese to betheisland'ssafe-guardagainst 
pestilence and famine, to each of which it is very 
much exposed; to the latter, on account of its dense 
population, and its natural sterility, by which it is 
rendered incapable of supph' ing the inhabitants with 
corn sufficient for the consumption of two months 
out of twelve; to the former, by reason of its great 
commerce with Turkey, and Barbary — places nev- 
er free from the plague. More reliance, indeed, is 
placed on these worthless relics, than on the protec- 
tion of God, and on the strict quarantme regulations, 
by which vessels coming from suspected coun- 
ti'ies are subject to long quarantines, some of forty, 



212 SIX YEARS IN THE 

some of fifty, and some of sixty days, whilst others 
in a harbour called MarsamiicettOy set apart entire- 
ly for that purpose, are reprovisioned, and sent back 
again to sea, without being allowed to land at all; or 
than on the prudence and foresight of the English 
Governor, whose duty it is to provide a supply of 
corn sufficient for two years, in case of a blockade, 
which corn is preserved in pits or fosses made for 
that purpose under ground in some of the principal 
streets of the cities, and in the garrisons. When 
these precautions keep the island free from the dread- 
ed evils, the Maltese do not attribute their preserva- 
tion to the measures taken to insure it, but rather to 
the protection of St. John and his relics; or of some 
other saint. 

I have been informed by one of the first English 
residents on the island, who came to it soon after 
it was evacuated by the French — his name was 
McKenzie, a Scotchman, since dead — that, during 
the pestilence which raged there with great fury in 
1817, and carried off a great number of the inhabi- 
tants, these relics and the dependence placed in them 
by the superstitious populace, was the cause of death 
to many, who would otherwise have escaped from 
its destroying influence. The reason he assigned 
for this opinion was; " because the prudential care of 
not coming in contact with one another, (for the 
disease was transmitted by the touch) was entirely 
neglected by the people, who assembled in crowds 
to pray before and touch the relics, which were ex- 
posed for public worship in the church of St. John.^' 
Some, who w^ere already infected with the raging 
malady, believed that they would be cured by touch- 
ing them; whilst others, still in health, believed, that 
the touch of such holy miraculous things would pre- 
serve them from all infection. The crowd assem- 
bled on these occasions was immense, and filled 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 273 

the church quite full, hy which the infected and the 
heahhy were all jumbled together; and therefore 
obliged to come in contact with the clothes and per- 
sons of each other. He further added, " that the 
touch of the relics themselves was attended with in- 
fection and afterwards death; for very few, who were 
once infected, everrecovered. The relics being touch- 
ed by the infected, conveyed the fatal malady to 
those in health, who touched them afterward, under 
the belief, that they had the power of protecting 
them from that evil, which perhaps they would have 
escaped, had it not been for their own superstitious 
confidence. The church was shut up by order of 
government before the cessation of the pestilence, 
it being found by experience, that more of those 
died, who were in the habit of frequenting it, than 
any other class of people — a striking example of the 
efficacy of relics. 

The church of St. John, besides the foremen- 
tioned relics, for which and some other things of lit- 
tle real value it is held in so great repute by the 
Maltese, is in itself a truly beautiful building, and 
possesses many monuments of the arts, worthy of a 
better fate than to be made the ornaments of a place 
set apart for the profanation of Christianity; for cer- 
tainly the superstitious* rites and ceremonies prac- 
tised under its roof cannot justly be called by any 
other name. It possesses many fine paintings of 
celebrated masters, procured at an enormous ex- 
pense by the Knights, who spared neither money 
nor labour in decorating this, their favourite church. 
The marble monuments erected to the memory of 
the Grand Masters of the Hierosolymitan order are 
worthy of a place in the Vatican, itself, on account of 
the beauty of execution, and richness of design: they 
might, indeed, have afforded subjects for study to the 
great Canova himself, for they are, in the opinion of 



274 SIX YEARS IN THE 

competent judges, master-pieces of sculpture. Be- 
sides liie cathedral of St. Giovanui, there are other 
churches iti this island, which would be thought 
splendid, nay, magnificent, if situated in another 
place, where they might not be outshone, and their 
beauty undervalued by a too close comparison with 
the former. All, however, are equally profaned by 
the idolatrous rites of popery; and are more es- 
teemed by the inhabitants for possessing some mira- 
cle-working image, or relic, than for the beauty of 
architecture, or for being sacred to the worship of 
the Supreme Being. 

During my late visit to Malta, in the year 1834, 
an occurrence took place there, which, for its absurd- 
ity, would lead one to imagine, that the reign of Van- 
dalic ignorance had again returned; and which fully 
proves that popery is the same in the nineteenth 
that it was the middle ages — indeed its boast of im- 
mutability is, lamentably, but too true, for it preach- 
es and practises the same doctrines, and the same 
ceremonies in these our own times, that it has done 
in former times, in which its monstrous errors gained 
ground on account of the general ignorance, which 
then reigned. The occurrence to which 1 allude, is 
no other than the translation of a saint's body sent 
from the catacombs at Rome* into one of the princi- 
pal churches of the Cittd Vittoriosa, a town oppo- 
site Valletta, and divided from the latter by an arm 
of the sea, which forms the principal harbour of the 
island. The rotten bones of which this body was com- 
posed, werepurchased at the request of the inhabitants, 
who collected by subscription the necessary funds, for 
the purpose of enriching by their presence a church 
long since dedicated to the saint, in whose name 
they were baptized; and which before this was ho- 
noured by the possession of only minor-relics of this 
saint, e. g. — the pairing"^ of his nails, or a drop of the 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 275 

water, in which his feet were washed; or something 
else of this kind. From Valletta, w^here it was first 
landed, packed up like a bale of merchandize, and 
marked "Corpo Santo. Alia cura del Reverendissimo 
Monsig. Caruana, Arcives. di Rhoda, e Vescovo di 
Malta'^ ( "A holy bod^^ Care of the most Rev. 
Caruana, Archbishop of Rhodes and Bishop of Mal- 
ta,'^) it was carried in procession by land, a distance 
of three miles, whereas the passage by water could 
be accomplished in five minutes, to the church, for 
which it was destined, accompanied by all the cler- 
gy, secular and regular of the island, with lighted tor- 
ches, and psalters in their hands, and attended by an 
immense concourse of people of all grades and con- 
ditions. Upon theprocession's arriving at the church, 
the sanctified bones were deposited amidst the firing 
of pistols and acclamations of the multitude, on the 
great altar, and on the very spot of the same altar 
set apart for the exposition of the sacrament, or wa- 
fer, which, as they believe, contains within its nar- 
row precincts the God of Christianit}' ; and there set 
up during three successive days to the adoration of 
the stupid multitude. If this be not idolatry, bare- 
faced idolatry too, I know not what idolatry is! 
Many miracles were said to have been performed 
during these three days by touching this worthless 
relic: many, who were bed-rid for a number of years 
before, were said to have got the use of their limbs; 
some obtained sight, others were freed from sick- 
ness; and all attributed their restoration to the pow- 
er of this deified filth. 

One miracle, that made more noise than all the 
rest, being unique in its kind, is worthy of especial 
notice. A woman, the wife of one of the wealthiest 
men in the Island, found herself without children, 
though married for a number of years — more than 
twenty. She was now fast approaching to that time 



276 SIX YEARS IN THE 

of life, in which all hope of offspring is generally- 
abandoned. This was the cause of no small unea- 
siness to herself and her husband, who lamented 
the necessity of leaving their property to distant re- 
lations; on account of having no children of their 
own. Physicians and their prescriptions were of 
no avail, though constantly consulted, and attended 
to by one and the other. Finding that they were 
nothing the better of the means employed for ob- 
taining posterity, though they neglected nothing, 
which had the appearance of being useful, they at 
length turned to implore help from on high, and 
spent much money in paying for masses, to be ce- 
lebrated according to their intention. On the arri- 
val of the forementioned holy relic, the wife, at 
the instigation of her confessor presented some twen- 
ty pounds of wax-candles to be burned before it, 
and was, during the whole triduo, in convStant, at- 
tendance at the church, wherein it was kept, em- 
ployed in prayer before it. About two months af- 
terward, she had the satisfaction of being able to 
console her husband wMth the certainty she had of 
becoming a mother before long. Nor was she de- 
ceived, for it became shortly after manifest, that she 
was really and truly pregnant. She continued her 
devotion to the holy relic, and made no scruple to 
publish to the world the favour she obtained through 
the intercession of the saint, and by the touch of 
his holy body. She presented another weight of 
candles, and spent no small sum in getting masses 
celebrated at the shrine of the saint, of which her 
confessor w^as guardian and high-priest. This splen- 
did miracle, for such it was universally acknow- 
ledged, increased, if possible, the devotion of the 
people towards the blessed relic, and caused it to be 
held in greatest veneration by all — especially by 
barren women. Whether the woman, in favour of 



MONAjSTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 277 

whom it was performed, was safely delivered, and 
had the happiness of presenting her husband with a 
son and heir, or otherwise, I cannot tell, for I left 
the Island long before such an event could happen, 
according to the ordinary course of nature. This 
only I can affirm, that it was confidently expected 
by her friends and relations, whom I well knew% that 
the child with which she was enceinte^ would be 
something extraordinary, and would make itself con- 
spicuous in some vvay, either in church or state — or 
perhaps in both; for it was one evidently bestowed 
by Heaven to the prayers and tears of a devout 
Christian, for such the woman was esteemed, and 
such she was, if a superstitious reliance on the tenets 
and doctrines of popery — on saint-worship, and relic- 
worship — can make one. 

The reader may form his own judgment on the 
foregoing miracle. He may believe it, or not be- 
lieve it, just as he thinks the circumstances require. 
I have related it, as it has been related to me, and 
have deviated very little from the words of the nar- 
rator, who was one of my intimate friends, and a 
worthy man, though unfortunately a Maltese priest, 
and a firm believer in such absurdities. I shall only 
remark, that the confessor, by whose advice the lady 
supplicated the assistance of the relic in her distress, 
was well known for his gallantries among his peni- 
tents, and had been suspended for a long time from 
his clerical duties by his bishop, not so much for 
living in incontinency , as for living so, openly; for, 
indeed, bishop Caruana himself, unless very much 
belied, was not over-chaste in early life, and could 
charitably excuse the failings of human nature. He 
is now, however, an old man, and seems, by his 
sanctified deportment, to have forgotten the follies 
of youth, and to be making reparation, if he had ever 
transgressed his vow of chastity. Some free-thinkers 
24 



2 78 SIX TEARS IN THE 

of Malta had the hardihood to say, that the confes- 
sor took the husband^s place in relation to the lady, 
and that he had a greater share in performing the 
miraclet than the holy relic. But this ma}^ be ca- 
lumny invented by those free-thinkers, in order to 
lessen the child-giving power of the relic. Let the 
reader judge: I have stated the joro and coiij but 
hazard no opinion. 

There is preserved in the diflerent churches of 
Italy, and other popish countries, so great an abund- 
ance of the milk of the Virgin Mary, which is 
adored, and worshipped as the most valuable relics, 
that it would seem impossible, that one woman could 
produce so much during her wd:iole life, though she 
were milked daily, like a cow, and though her in- 
fant, for whose sustenance it had been given by na- 
ture, had never tasted the smallest drop of it. Yet 
these portions of what is called the Madonna's milk, 
and which if brought together would form a moun- 
tain of cheese, sutTicient to supply a cheese-eating 
Welsh family for a whole winter, are said to have 
flowed directly from the breasts of the Virgin Mary, 
and to have been bestowed by herself to her favou- 
rites in token of her protection, and of her continual 
watching over them. 

It would be needless and quite uninteresting to 
the reader to relate the ridiculous fables, which are 
related concerning the benefits, temporal and spiri- 
tual, which had been granted to those, who devout- 
ly knelt down before and kissed these relics: be it 
sufficient to observe, that they are on a par in absur- 
dity with the other lying wonders, by which the 
church of Rome have catered for the applause of 
her followers^ and deluded the numerous victims of 
her superstitious practices. England, now happily 
free from Romish bondage, had also herself more 
than her share of this kind of trumpery before the re- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &:c. 271^ 

formation. Besides the shrine of Thomas a Becket, 
which was noted for its immense riches, and lor be- 
ing the Mecca, not only of England, but of sur- 
rounding and far distant nations, it was also remark- 
able, according to the testimony of Erasmus, for a 
rich and splendid shrine of the Madonna, placed at 
a village called at that time St. Ma?y's, near Fal- 
mouth, and only three miles from the sea-coast. 
This, as well as the shrine of Thomas a Becket, and 
the other rich monasteries fell into the hands, on the 
suppression of the monastic houses, of the wife-kill- 
ing Henry, (as Cobbett calls him,) and of his no 
less rapacious and impious courtiers — the same, as 
if the hand of God was upon the wealth amassed 
through superstition and false religion, and that he 
wished to show his indignation at the manner, in 
which such riches were collected by allowing it to 
serve for the gratification of the avarice and other 
evil propensities of this rOyal monster, and his de- 
moniacal ministers — for such they were, with very 
few exceptions. 

Among the things of wonder, and devotion, which 
attracted numerous pilgrims to this temple of the 
Madonna, near Falmouth, G^Z^ot^/ which we are speak- 
ing, was a relic of the Virgin's milk renowned for 
miracles and prodigies. This famous relic brought 
in no small gains from the numerous visitors, to the 
nest of idle monks, who were owners of it; indeed, 
its church almost rivalled Becket's shrine itself in 
riches, and in the number of the gold and silver ar- 
ticles, and in the jewels and precious stones of im- 
mense value, which it possessed. The story of the 
manner in w^hich this sacred treasure was obtained 
is thus related by Erasmus. 

A certain pious gentleman of the good old times, 
of the name of Gulielmus (William) and a French- 
man by birth, rendered himself conspicuous to the 



280 SIX YEARS IN THE 

age in which he lived, for his zeal in seeking out 
the relies of the saints, and holding them forth to 
the devotion of his fellovv-christians. Having; wan- 
dered through a greater part of the globe, and espe- 
cially the regions of the East, in search of those 
helps to salvation, he arrived at last in Constantino- 
ple, where his brother held the office of bishop. 
Having enjoyed in that city the society of his bro- 
ther for a long tinne, he was on the point of return- 
ing to France, without having made any addition to 
his stock of relics, when he was surprised with the 
joyful news of a holy virgin of Constantinople, ha- 
ving in her possession a portion of the Virgin Ma- 
ry's milk. He now esteemed all his labours at no- 
thing; all his other relics, collected with so much 
trouble and expense, of little consequence, unless 
he obtained some portion of this sacred milk to add 
to their heap: he thought this one relic of more 
value, than all his other relics put together. At 
last, partly by entreaty, partly by threats, and part- 
ly by a large weight of gold, he obtained a portion 
of it, and was beatified with the possession of this 
esteemed, and so eagerly desired treasure. He now, 
in his own estimation, richer than Croesus, hastens 
home with the intention of depositing the fruit of 
his labours in the cathedral of Paris, his native city, 
to be there preserved as a safe-guard for future ages, 
and an object of devotion to posterity; but, alas! 
nothing is constantly, or for a long time, prosperous 
in this world! the poor man died before he had per- 
formed half his journey. When he found his end 
approaching, he called to him another Frenchman, 
one of the companions of his pilgrimage, and depo- 
sited in his hands the sacred treasures, and among 
the rest the Virgin's milk; conjuring him by his 
friendship, and by the respect due to the memory of 
a faithful companion, to carry it to the place he had 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 281 

intended, if his life had been spared, that is, to de- 
posit it in the cathedral of Paris: and on the altar 
dedicated to the V^irgin in said church. To make 
a long story short, as story-tellers say, the latter 
died also before his arrival in Paris, and at his death, 
was obliged to confide the treasure to the care of 
an Englishman, another of his companions; but 
with many entreaties, he made him promise to do 
with it, what it was his own intention to have done. 
The Englishman lived to arrive at Paris, and depo- 
sited — (mindful of the entreaties of his dead com- 
panion, and of his own promise to him) — the holy 
milk on the Virgin's altar in presence of the Canons, 
who bestowed him half of it in reward of his inte- 
grity, and in payment of his trouble. This half, by 
the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, he carried to the 
church of the Canons regular near Falmouth, where 
it was preserved till the reformation. What became 
of it after that period, history is silent; though it is 
very probable, that when the monks were obliged 
to change quarters at the suppression of the mona- 
steries, it was borne by them to some country, where 
it would meet with more devout worshippers than 
it could possibly expect among the half-frantic po- 
pulation of England at that period. Erasmus adds, 
that lest there could arise any doubt of the genuine- 
ness of the relic, there were affixed to the tablet, on 
which the foregoing history was related, the names, 
signed by their own hands, of the different ecclesi- 
astical superiors in England, and especially of those 
belonging to tlie monastery of the church in which 
it was preserved. An indulgence also of forty days 
was granted to all the faithful, who devoutly visit 
it, and bestow a small gift for defraying the expen- 
ses attending its due keeping, that is, for candles, 
oil, &c. to be kept burning before it. By these 
small gifts, however, it arrived, or rather the monks 
24* 



282 SIX YEARS IN THE 

arrived at the possession of the immense treasures 
— the accumulation of ages — for which the church 
was distinguished — more indeed than for the piety 
of those to whom it belonged. 

It would be needless to proceed farther with the 
inquiry concerning relics and relic-worship. What 
has been already said, will be sufficient to show to 
the reader the manner in which this idolatrous 
practice is upheld, and the barefaced disregard for 
truth, or even probability, for which its advocates 
distinguish themselves. I shall, therefore, pass over 
in silence the numerous pieces of the true cross; the 
clothes in which the infant Jesus was vvrapped, 
when born; the stafl^ of St. Joseph; the holy pre- 
puce; what distinguished the gender of Balaam's 
ass; the nail? which pierced the hands of our Savi- 
our; the crown of thorns; the chains with which St. 
Peter was bound; in fine, all the other objects of 
superstition, by which the Christian is turned away 
from the worship of God, and from trusting his sal- 
vation to the atonement of Christ, in order to place 
it upon the inventions of priests, whose love of gain 
excites them to substitute any thing, and show any 
way, rather than that pointed out for man's salva- 
tion in the divinely inspired volume. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 283 



CHAPTER XXV. 

Indulgences — When first granted — Leo X, publishes Indulgences 
— Form of Indulgences — Language of Indulgence-mountebanks 
— Extract from the "Tax of the Sacred Roman Chancery." — 
Dispute between the Augustinians and Dominicans — Luther, 
and the Reformation — Galileo Galilei — Decline of Indulgences 
in Italy — The Pope grants Indulgences — gratis, because he 
could find no Purchasers — The Cruzada — Spaniards obliged, by 
the Secular Arm, to purchase Indulgences — Probable income of 
the Pope fi-om the sale of Indulgences in Spain — Bishops en- 
dowed with the power of granting and selling Indulgences — Ob- 
liged to pay an annual rent to the Pope — A Bishop suspended 
from his functions, and confined to a Convent, by reason of not 
being able to pay the Pope's rent. 

The doctrine of indulgences is another of those 
money-nnaking impositions, by which the church of 
Rome maintains her sway over the consciences of 
Christians, and entices them by the false doctrine of 
the vicarious merits of saints, to trust their salva- 
tion rather to these, than to the all-sufScient atone- 
ment of Christ. Indulgences may be defined *^a 
remission of pitnishment^ due to sin, obtained by 
paying a certain sum of money ^ by which the 
superfluous good works of the saints, that is, 
those which were over and above the quantity re- 
quired for their own salvation, are purchased 
front the church,^^ These good works may be ap- 
plied by the person purchasing them, either to his 
own private use, in remission of the punishment due 
to his own sins, or they may be applied in suffrage 
of the souls of his friends, suffering in the not very 
agreeable region of purgatory. 

This curious, though money-making doctrine, 



284 SIX YEARS IN THE 

seems to have derived its origin from the unscrip- 
tural doctrine of salvation by works. According to 
the doctrine of the Romish church, all the good 
works of the saints, which v.^ere over and above 
those required for their own salvation, are deposit- 
ed, together with the merits of Christ, in one im- 
mense heap, and that the church, i. e. the pope, has 
the power of using this treasure, and of opening it 
to those who are willing to purchase a part of it for 
their own souls, or the souls of their departed rela- 
tives. 

The invention of indulgences seems to have taken 
place in the 11th century, under the pontificate of 
Urban II, who granted them in recompense to those 
who went in person upon the enterprise of conquer- 
ing the Holy Land: they were afterwards bestowed 
upon those who hired a soldier for that purpose, and 
in process of time, they were given to those who 
contributed money to any purpose which the pope 
may have at heart to accomplish. No invention of 
the Romish church, perhaps not that of relics itself, 
has been more openly abused, and made the source 
of more unhallowed gain, than this one of indul- 
gences. Leo the Tenth, in order to carry on the 
magnificent structure of St. Peter's, published in- 
dulgences, and a plenary remission of sins to all 
who would in any wise contribute money towards 
it. Finding the scheme to turn out well, he grant- 
ed to Albert, elector of Mentz, and archbishop of 
Magdeburg, the benefits of the indulgences of Sax- 
ony and the neighbouring parts, and farmed out 
those of other countries to the highest bidders. 
These, to make the most of their contract, procured 
the ablest preachers to cry up the Value of the ware. 
The form^ of the indulgences was as follows: Domi- 
nus noster, Jesus Christus misereatur tui, et te ab- 
solvat per merita suae sanctissimse passionis. Et 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 285 

ego, ex auctoritate illius, et sanctorum apostolorum 
Petri et Pauli, et Domini nostri sanctissimi, papas 
mihi concessa, et commissa pro his partibus, absol- 
vo te ab omnibus censuris ecclesiasticis, quocunque 
modo incursis,* et ab omnibus delictis, et peccatis, 
etiam ab his reserv^atis ad peculiarem sanctse sedis 
cognitionem; tibi remitto omnem poenam, quam in 
purgatorio pati debes propter hsec, et te restituo ad 
participationem sacramentorum sanctse ecclesise, ad 
unitatem fidelium, et ad eam innocentiam, et puri- 
tatem quam in baptismo possedisti: sic quum mo- 
rieris, portae inferni claudantur, et paridisi portae 
aperiantur, et si statim non decesseris, in plena vi 
gratia hsec tibi remaneat usque ad mortis articulum. 
In nomine Patriset Filii, et Spiritus sancti. Amen. 
May our Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon thee, 
and absolve thee by the merits of his most holy 
passion. And I, by his authority, and that of the 
blessed apostles, Peter and Paul, and of our most 
holy lord, the pope, absolve thee from all ecclesias- 
tical censures, in whatever manner incurred, and 
from all thy sins and transgressions; even from such 
as are reserved for the cognizance of the holy see. 
I remit all punishment which thou deservest in 
purgatory on their account, and I restore thee to the 
holy sacraments of the church, to the unity of the 
faithful, and to that innocence and purity which thou 
didst possess at baptism, so that when thou diest, the 
gates of hell shall be shut, and the gates of paradise 
shall be opened; and if thou diest not at present, this 
grace shall remain in full force when thou art at the 
point of death. In the name of the Father, and of 
the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. 

* The reader ought to bear in mind, that the pope has also the 
privilege of making new Latin words. The above barbarism (" in- 
cursis") is a specimen of his infallibility in grammar. Purgato- 
rium is another popish, and infallible barbarism. 



>] 


90 


2 


60 


2 


60 


2 


25 


3 


00 


2 


25 


1 


90 


1 


90 


2 


60 



286 SIX YEARS IN THE 

In a book called '' the Tax of the Sacred Roman 
Chancery/^ in which are contained the exact sums 
to be paid, in order to obtain pardon for each parti- 
cular sin, the following curious items of some of the 
fees are lo be found: 

For procuring abortion, - - - ^ 
For simony, ----- 
For sacrilege, - - - - 

For taking a false oath, in criminal cases. 
For burning a neighbour's house, 
For defiling a virgin, - - - - 

For lying with a mother, sister, &c. 
For murdering a layman, - - - 

For keeping a concubine. 
For laying violent hands on a clergyman, 2 60* 
The terms in which the retailers of indulgences 
cried up their efficacy, and the manner in which they 
enforced the necessity of purchasing them, on their 
benighted audiences, would, were it not tampering 
with immortal souls, and plunging them headlong 
into the soul-destroying gulf of false reliance, be ra- 
ther a subject for ridicule than for serious comment. 
The mode practised in Germany at the era of there- 
formation by Tetzel, the Dominican indulgence-mon- 
ger, and his worthy coadjutors, would be sufficient 
to excite the spleen of even the most ignorantly at- 
tached to popish superstitions, and therefore there is 
no wonder, that a Luther rose up against them; one 
who, as his after-career made manifest, was pos- 
sessed of superior talents buried in the mire of monk- 
ish ignorance and slavery; and who perhaps oni}^ 

* This curious book was published in Oxford at the time of the 
reformation in England. It is now very scarce, all the copies be- 
ing bought up by the emissaries of popery, in order to do away 
with the evidences of the iniquity of their church. *' There is a 
copy, however, preserved in the Bodleian library, at Oxford,, 
vrhence Smith has extracted the above to insert in his book, called 
" the Errors of the church of Rome.^^ 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 287 

waited for the favourable moment to free Christianity 
from the monstrous absurdities, with which she was 
weighed down at that period, and with which she is 
still weighed down in whatever place she appears in 
the meretricious garb of popery. Robertson in his 
history of Charles V. gives the following specimen of 
pulpit eloquence, employed for the purpose of dis- 
posing of this new kind of merchandize in the six- 
teenth century: '^If any man'^ (preached the indul- 
gence mountebanks) " purchase letters of indulgence, 
his soul may rest secure with respect to its salvation. 
The souls confined in purgatory, for whose redemp- 
tion indulgences are purchased, as soon as the money 
tinkles in the chest, instantly escape from that place 
of torment, and ascend into heaven, That the eifica- 
cy of indulgences was so great that the most heinous 
sins, even if one should violate the Mother of God, 
would be remitted, and expiated by them, and the 
person be t>eed both from punishment and guilt. 
That this w^as the unspeakable gift of God in order 
to reconcile man to himself. That the cross erected 
by the preachers of indulgences was equally effica- 
cious with the cross of Christ itself. Lo! the heav- 
ens are open, if you enter not now, when will you 
enter? For tw^elve pence, you may redeem the soul 
of your father out of purgatory, and are you so un- 
grateful, that you will not rescue the soul of your 
parent from torment? If you had but one coat, you 
ought to strip yourself instantly and sell it in order 
to purchase such benefits.^' 

By such impious harangues as this were Christians 
led astray from the only sure way of obtaining sal- 
vation, by placing their hopes and confidence on the 
atonement of Christ: and directed to place them upon 
the absurd and ridiculous substitutes invented by 
their self-interested and greedy teachersfor their own 
private emoluments. 

The state of the popish clergy in the sixteenth 



288 SIX YEARS IN THE 

century must have been wholly abandoned, and lost 
to every sense of religion, when such impieties were 
not resisted,or contradicted only through the jealousy 
that one order entertained for another — through the 
jealousy of the Augistinians against the Dominicans. 
It is evident, that the Augustinian General did not 
excite his subjects to preach against the Dominican 
blasphemous abuse of indulgences (if indeed abuse 
can be applied to things, which never had any pro- 
per eflectual use) for any better reason than a hatred 
of the latter order, and the envy with which his mind 
w-as filled, at seeing the immense sums flowing into 
its coffers from the sale of indulgences; and by no 
means, because he compassionated the many im- 
mortal souls, which were unawares dragged into 
perdition by trusting their salvation to the efficacy 
imputed to such trumpery by its lying and anti- 
Christian venders. This enmity against the Domini- 
cans was likewise increased by a sense of wrong, 
that he considered committed against his own order, 
for the Augustinians had heretofore the honor of be- 
ing the pope's agents in Germany, when his Holi- 
ness invented anything new to replenish his exhaust- 
ed treasury at the expense of the eternal happiness 
oi his deluded followers. This agency w^as, on the 
publication of indulgences by Leo X., withdrawn 
from them and granted to the Dominicans by the 
Archbishop of Magdeburg; by which were sown 
the seeds of dissension between these two powerful 
orders. Little did Monsignor — the Bishop, imagine 
that this preference shown for the Dominicans would 
be the moving cause of that memorable revolution, 
which, in the end, dissipated the clouds of error, 
with which the pure atmosphere of genuine Christi- 
anity was for so many ages covered over, and by 
which it was rendered pestilential. Luther rose up 
at the command of his General, and began to preach, 
first against the abuses of indulgences, and then. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 289 

against indulgences themselves. The latter part of 
his mission was not contained in his letters of instruc- 
tion, and therefore he incurred the displeasure of his 
employer, the General of his order, who, however, 
he might he excited by envy to endeavour to supplant 
the Dominicans in the monopoly of indulgences, had 
not the least wish of undeceiving the people, who 
were victims to the imposition. Indeed, had he suc- 
ceeded in transferring the sale of them from the Do- 
minicans to his own order, the people would be no- 
thing the gainers by the change: " Quicquid pec- 
cant reges, plecluntur Achivi'' — which translated 
into modern language would mean " whoever dan- 
ces we must pay the piper^'^ — could very properly 
be taken as their motto; for whichsoever of the riv- 
al orders would gain the ascendency, and become 
sales-masters of his Holiness^ wares, the wares w^ere 
always the same, and suffered no diminution in their 
intrinsic value, or rather no vahte^ their pernicious 
qualities being the same, when sold either by a Do- 
minican, or an Augustinian. 

Luther was ordered to retract what he had preached 
againsfindulgences; buthe had gone already too far for 
an honorable retractation: he therefore boldly threw 
offthe cloak under which he had hitherto concealed his 
real opinions; being unquestionably an instrument in 
the hands of God, who compassionati ng in his own good 
time the forlorn and fallen state of his Church deign- 
ed to choose by one of those wonderful and un- 
searchable ways of his infinite wisdom, from the very 
propagators of the errors, with which she was pollu- 
ted, a person to dispel those errors and make van- 
ish before the face of truth the flimsy support by 
which they were upheld, and by which they were 
impiously palmed upon his people as the way in 
which he loved to be w^orshipped. All things 
considered, if any one human event was ever brought 



290 SIX YEARS IN THE 

about by the direct agency of the Holy Spirit, the re- 
formation seems to be that one. In whatever light 
this glorious event be viewed; whether as the means 
by which the human mind was freed from the bond- 
age, in which it was held during past ages, and which 
hindered a Galileo* from exercising his natural vi- 

* The treatment, which the immortal Gahleo experienced from 
the machinations of the court of Rome, framed, as he himself ex- 
presses it, "by three most powerful engineers, envy^ ignorance^ and 
impiety,'^^ may serve as an example of the blasting- influence of the 
Papal breath over every thing in the shape of improvement or ame- 
lioration, and of the ch;:ins in which the human mind was kept by 
the influence of a court, whose head the Pope, was proverbially 
knowm for his abhorrence of genius and literature. Galileo, having 
published his system of the World, and especially his discovery of 
the Earth's motion round tlie Sun; the cry of heresy was immediate- 
ly raised by the ignorant monks and other soi-disant learned savages, 
that surrounded the papal throne; among whom Ballarmin, the Je- 
suit, and Jesuitical polemic, rendered himself conspicuous for the 
strength of his lungs, in crying down a truth, which with all his 
school chaotic knowledge, he could not understand. His preachers, 
choosing their text from the Acts of the Apostles " Viri Galilei, quid 
statis aspicientes in coelum" (Men of Galilee, why do ye stand 
looking towards the heavens?) without considering the sin of pun- 
ning upon the Divine Word, were also encouraged by him to de- 
nounce as a heresy, what their brutal minds were incapable of under- 
standing. The immortal author was summoned to Rome by Ur- 
ban VIII, to stand his trial for heresy; that is, for promulgating a 
truth, acknowledged by all succeeding ages. Though an old man, 
and of an appearance so venerable as to be able to command re- 
spect from a synod of savages, he was placed by the inquisitors, 
worse than savages, in their horrible dungeons, and treated in other 
ways with the greatest barbarity. Afl;er fifty days imprisonment 
he was ordered by them even without hearing his defence, or 
without their going through the formality of attending to it, to 
abjure, curse and detest (abjurare, maledicere, et detestare, are 
the express w^ords) the motion of the earth, of the truth of which 
he was so intimately convinced. Thus, because his stupid godship 
the pope says, "the Earth remains firm," his " ipse dixit" must have 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 291 

gour in la^nng open to his fellow-mortals the won- 
ders of the creation, and thereby increasing their 
love and adoration for the Creator; or as the re-estab- 
lishment of that pure form of worship, which God 
vouchsafed to manifest to mortals, though at the sac- 
rifice of his only begotten son, and which condescen- 
sion and goodness on the part of God, and obedience 
on the part of His Son were rendered of no avail to 
obtain theendsfor which they were designed, through 
human inventions, and diabolical substitutes; whe- 
ther, in fine, the reformation be looked upon in 
either a temporal or spiritual point of view, it must 
be acknowledged from its consequences so fraught 
with benefits to man, that the finger of God direct- 
ed its beginning and its progress, and that those, who 
bore so conspicious parts in it, acted under the im- 
mediate guidance of the Spirit of truth. 

Having thus taken a hasty glance at the rise and 
progress of indulgences, and at the blessed event, 
which, through their unwilling agency was brought 
about in the sixteenth century; let us now proceed 
to examine the present state of that profitable doc- 
more weight than the convincing arguments to the contrary of a 
Galileo, and the sun must move round the earth under pain of ex- 
communication. After ages have done justice to Galileo, and even 
after popes, forgetting the honor and infallibility of their predeces- 
sors, have been obliged to acknowledge the truth of his system, 
which is now publicly taught in all the Italian schools. What be- 
comes then of papal infallibility, when facts of this nature stare 
the reader of history in almost every page? Popish controvertists 
will say, "Oh ! that is not fair, for we claim infallibility for His 
Holiness only in things appertaining to religion, and not in those 
belonging to philosophy !" Don't be alarmed, good deceivers of 
mankind, I will push my argument no farther; but simply ask, call- 
ing to your mind the old saying, "ne sutor ultra crepidam," why then 
does he mingle in things which do not appertain to him and which 
he does not understand? 



292 SIX YEARS IN THE 

trine, and the manner it is actually carried on in the 
church of Rome. Indulgences seem to have lost 
their value in modern times. The light of pure 
Christianity scattered abroad by the endeavours of 
protestant missionaries, and the more general edu- 
cation of the people of all countries, except those 
in which popery is the only religion tolerated, by 
which I mean Spain and Italy in particular, have 
tended very much to lessen the esteem formerly en- 
tertained for this new method of obtaining salva- 
tion, by bringing home to the minds of the people 
its inefficacy, and its wide discrepancy from the way 
marked out in the revealed Word. In Spain and 
Italy, however, it is still a very profitable doctrine, 
and fully repays the trouble of those who preach it. 
It would seem from the very cautious manner in 
which indulgences are preached now-a-days, that 
popery has at length learned to blush, and that the 
grossly over-acted systems of impostures have at 
length been judged too bare-faced by their very in- 
ventors. While ever there was. a probability of 
catching any one in their nets, the preachers of in- 
dulgences persevered in their labours, excited there- 
to by an insatiable thirst for gain; but when not 
even the most stupid, in other respects, could be 
any longer duped out of their money by paying for 
such glaring impositions, then indeed they thought 
it full time to sound a retreat, and hide themselves 
under an edict from the pope, by which His Holiness 
graciously granted indulgences of a certain class for 
— not money, for he found he could get no more of 
that — but for "Paiei^ nosiers and ^ve Marias^^^ 
alleging for a reason of this benevolence, that the 
sums required for the object specified at their first 
promulgation, were already made up, and that there- 
fore, he was unwilling to withhold the merits of the 
saints from those, who were unable to purchase them. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 293 

and who panted after their efficacy. What a chari- 
table being His Holiness is! 

This granting of indulgences for nothing was not 
done without design: Indeed the purpose of so grant- 
ing them was two-fold: the first and principal, lest 
by formally abolishing them altogether, which would 
be an act of honesty, of which the church of Rome 
is seldom guilty, the church might seem to have 
erred in having ever started and made an article of 
faith, of so absurd a doctrine: the second, that they 
might not run into disuse, but remain in a kind of 
inactive vigour, till time, and some happy changes 
in the dispositions of the people might make it ad- 
visable to resuscitate them from their lethargic inac- 
tivity. This gratuitous granting of indulgences was 
only in force, in the states immediately subject to 
the temporal as well as spiritual control of Rome. 
These states were the first to cry out against the 
soul-killing imposition, because they saw daily be- 
fore their eyes the use to which the money obtained 
at the expense of the souls of Christians was con- 
verted by those that obtained the division of the 
booty — by the cardinals, monks, and prelates. To 
stop their mouths, the above mentioned edict was 
published by command of His Hi>liness, and extend- 
ed to other countries, according as such countries 
began to decline in purchasing the indulgences, or 
to take notice of their inefficacy for obtaining the 
end for which they were published — redemption of 
souls from purgatory, and remission of sin in this 
world. 

The sale of indulgences is continued in Spain to 
the present time, under the pretext of supporting 
the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. It is called the 
cruzada. Permission is granted to those, who pur- 
chase this bull for four Spanish Realsy to eat meat 
every day in the year, lent and Fridays included. 

25* 



294 SIX YEARS IN THE^ 

In the reign of the late tyrannical bigot Ferdinand 
VII, the masters of the posadas,or innkeepers had the 
power of demanding of theirgueststo show their bulls 
before sitting down to table, and if they refused, or 
had eaten meat without being provided wqth such, 
they were liable to be fined or imprisoned by the 
secular arm. Every Spaniard, especially those who 
were constantl);^ journeying, as muleteers, pedlars, 
beggars, &c., had small pockets made in their clothes 
for the purpose of holding their bulls: In this they 
resemble the Rajahs^ or subjects of the Grand Sig- 
ner, who are not Mahometans; for these are obliged 
to pay so much annually to the government for which 
they obtain a kind of pass, which they are obliged 
to constantly keep about their persons, in case of 
being asked for it by the Turkish officers, and not 
being able to produce it, they are immediately im- 
prisoned and fined — and bastinadoed^ to boot. The 
Spanish Turk, though under a weaker pretext, has 
imitated the Sultan in this, as he has done in many 
acts of tyrannical injustice, and all under the sanc- 
tion and by the advice of the Christian Mufti, called 
by Europeans "his holiness, the pope.^' The in- 
come derived from indulgences sold in the King- 
dom of Spain alone, is computed at five hundred 
thousand dollars annually. This sum is sent to 
Rome, to be employed by the pope nominally, in 
keeping the Holy Sepulchre free from the encroach- 
ment of infidels, but really^ as a kind of Peter^s 
pence, which he converts to his own private use, or 
spends in satisfying the avarice of his cardinals and 
courtiers. As much more, very probably, is kept 
by the Spanish monks, and by those to whom the 
sale of indulgences was granted, in payment of their 
trouble; so that we ma}^ say, that one million of dol- 
lars is wrung from the hands of a starving popula- 
tion, under pretext of supporting Christianity, of 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 295 

obtaining remission of sin, and of making use of 
food upon which the book containing the precepts 
of Christianity, or its Divine Author had never 
laid any restriction. 

The same way of extorting money was attempted 
to be established in the Roman states; but not with 
equal success. The Romans are contented w^ith the 
indulgences obtained for the trouble of muttering a 
Pater noster, or an Ave Maria before the image of 
some Saint, without spending their money to supply 
luxuries to priests. The higher classes, however, 
in order to keep up a show of obedience to the 
Church, and not through any love or respect for its 
ordinances, or reliance on the trumpery held out as 
helps to salvation, purchase the liberty of eating- 
prohibited meats. Indeed, the Romans in general 
have more just notions of the value of these things 
than any other popish nation in the world, and if 
they had the povver, I am confident, they would 
soon free themselves from them altogether. But 
they are kept in awe by the cannons of St. Angelo 
and Austrian bayonets; and are therefore obliged to 
patiently submit to evils they cannot prevent. The 
time will come, however, and in all probability it is 
not far distant, w^hen the former masters of the 
world will be freed from the galling trammels of 
their purple tyrants, and show to the world, that 
though they may have lived for ages under their 
rod, yet the hereditary horror of slavery is not en- 
tirely extinct in their breasts, though it may have 
been rendered torpid through inability to exercise 
it, and seem smothered under oppression; and that 
they do not dishonour the glorious name of '^Ro- 
mans^^ left to them by their warlike ancestors. 
'. The bishops of each diocess in those countries 
where popery predominates, have also the privilege 
of selling indulgences attached to their episcopal 



296 SIX YEARS IN THE 

office. This privilege is understood as one farmed 
directly from the pope, to whom, as farmer- general 
of the merits of Christ, and the saints, they are ob- 
liged to pay an annual rent; and as it forms one of 
the items of their income, they endeavour to cry up 
as much as possible the value of the ware. The in- 
ferior clergy, and parish priests, are directed by 
them, accordingly, to inculcate on the minds of the 
people, the value and efficacy of indulgences, and 
the certainty of redeeming from the tormenting re- 
gions of purgatory, the souls of their parents, friends, 
and benefactors, by purchasing the bulls by which 
they are granted. Bishops, who are ambitious of 
attaining to higher dignities in the church, or who 
are desirous of being translated from the poor dio- 
cesses to which they are appointed, to richer ones, 
cannot practise a better method to propitiate the 
court of Rome, and to forward their own ambitious 
and avaritious designs, than by sending to the pope 
large sums of money, under pretext of its being col- 
lected by the sale of indulgences. This species of 
simony is extensively practised by popish priests 
and prelates, and perhaps nine out of ten of the 
bishops, who are set over diocesses, had no greater 
qualification for that high office, than bribery, and 
the weight of their purses. There are some cases 
on record of bishops having been summoned to 
Rome to answer for misconduct, because they had 
not transmitted, either through inability or roguery, 
the usual sum annually required at their hands. If 
they should plead, in excuse, that they were unable 
to dispose of the indulgences, and that their flocks 
were either unable, or unwilling, to purchase them, 
they are immediately answered, "that they had not 
exerted themselves in preaching their efficacy, for 
otherwise the people would sell every thing they 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. ' 297 

had, in order to become possessed of sucli inestima- 
ble treasures.'' 

I knew an old Neapolitan bishop, of the Capuchin 
order, who was created bishop of Cotrone, in Cala- 
bria, at the request of the king of Naples, but being 
unable to pay the accustomed sum annually to the 
pope, he was accused of heresy, at Rome, and con- 
fined to his convent, at Salerno, for the remainder of 
his days. It turned out, afterwards, that the pope, 
Leo XII, of immortally infamous memory, had sold 
his diocess to one who was both able to satisfy his 
avarice and to pay regularly the stipulated sums, 
but with little disadvantage to himself, for he ob- 
liged his flock to provide themselves with indul- 
gences, w^hether they liked them or not. Such a 
bishop as this was in a fair way of preferment at the 
court of Rome, whilst the poor old Capuchin, more 
scrupulous, perhaps, (though, indeed, few of that or- 
der are troubled with scruples,) was suspended, and 
driven from his diocess, it is said, on account of the 
delicacy of his conscience. He seemed to be a very 
worthy old man, and had passed through the dif- 
ferent gradations of his order with eclat, I was pre- 
sent at his death, in the Capuchin convent of Saler- 
no, and heard the above reason assigned by one of 
the monks, for his disgrace; but whether it was not 
rather through indolence than conscience he refused 
to preach, or cause to be preached, the doctrine of 
indulgences, which w^as the only way he had of 
making up the pope's tribute, I am unable to judge, 
but suspect it w^as rather through the former, espe- 
cially when it be taken into consideration, that he 
was a man of a very advanced age, and therefore 
incapable of that vigour required to enfore his or- 
ders. It seems, also, highly im.probable, that in his 
old age, the workings of conscience would oblige 
him to finish a long life of preaching and practising 



298 SIX YEARS IN THE 

the worst tenets of Rome, with a denial of the truth 
of such tenets, by refusing to exercise himself to the 
last, in propagating them: it is, in fine, possible, 
that he had been touched with conviction of their 
fallacy, even at that late period, though, indeed, 
judging from daily experience, it is highly impro- 
bable, and if it be true, it is a thing unique in its 
kind, for men, especially monks, generally die as 
they have lived. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

Conscientious Bishops — Monsignor Gondolfi — Maronites — Mon- 
signor Gondolfi sent in the character of Apostolic Delegate to 
the Eastern Churches — Decline of Popery, and cause of that 
decline, among the Maronites — Gondolfi's Instructions — Cun- 
ning of His Holiness, cloaked under a love for the souls of the 
Maronites — Gondolfi*s early Life — State of the Monks attach- 
ed to the Holy Sepulchre, at Jerusalem— Gondolfi endeavours 
to reform them — The Monks accuse him of heresy, at the 
Court of Rome — Obliged to be on his guard against the machi- 
nations of the Monks — He removes to Mount Libanus — State 
of the Maronite Clergy and People — Distribution of the Scrip- 
tures made by the Protestant Missionaries among the Maro- 
nites — The Maronite Clergy accuse Gondolfi, at Rome — He is 
recalled, but refuses to obey — He is expelled from the Convent 
— Arrival of his successor — Bibles burned by thousands — Gon- 
dolfi is poisoned by a Maronite Priest — The Maronites report 
that his death w^as caused by the vengeance of God — Indul- 
gences for committing Sin — Alexander VI — Massacre of St. 
Bartholomew — Fra Paolo — Curious Theological Disquisition. 

There are, however, some bishops — and it is to 
be lamented, that they are so few — whose con- 
sciences are not " seared with a hot iron^^^ and 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 299 

who endeavour, as far as they can do it without 
danger to themselves, to lead those committed to 
their charge through the Gospel path of salvation, 
and to preach more frequently the doctrines of 
Christ than the doctrines of men. These lay little 
stress on the value of indulgences, and other popish 
inventions, though they are obliged to keep private 
their aversion forsuchtrumpery, lest they mightincur 
the displeasureofthe pope, and his myrmidons. When- 
ever it is discovered that they teach their flock to 
place greater reliance on Christ and his merits, than 
on the pope and his saints; and when the deficit in 
their annual returns for the sale of indulgences 
proves their little zeal in preaching them; (though 
such as wish to remain in favour with Rome, make 
up the required sum from their own private income, 
if they be rich enough;) they are then accused of 
heresy, like the old Capuchin bishop mentioned 
above, and if their persons be in the immediate 
power of the pope, they are inquisitioned, that is, 
they are hurled into the dungeons of that horrid tri- 
bunal. Indeed, bishops of this description are po- 
pish only in name, and generally oppressed by the 
overwhelming power of papal influence, long be- 
fore an opportunity presents of being of any perma- 
nent service to the cause of Christ. They want but 
the opportunity, to become zealous Christian pastors; 
and had their lot been cast in other countries than 
those groaning under papal bondage, they would 
exhibit themselves true and faithful preachers oi 
the Gospel of salvation, and be inestimable blessings 
to the people among which they might be placed. 
As it is, such as are of this class — and, perhaps, one 
out of a hundred may be found — and not more — 
they endeavour as far as they can, without personal 
danger, to preach Christ, and Him crucified, to their 
people, to lay open to them the hopes of salvation 



300 SIX TEARS IN THE 

as written in the book of life, and to leave the pecu- 
liar doctrines of popery, (which, if iheir real opinions 
were known, they would be found to consider anti- 
Christian,) in the back ground, or pass them over as 
unworthy of notice. 

The Italian missionary bishop, MonsignorGondolfi, 
who was sent by the pope, in the character of'' apos- 
tolic delegate,'' to the churches of the Maronites,'* and 

* A sect of eastern Christians, who follow the Syrian rite, and 
who submitted to the papal yoke in 1182. They are called Maro- 
nites from Maro, their first bishop, who, it is supposed by some 
ecclesiastical writers, was a strenuous defender of the doctrine of 
the Monothelites, or those who allowed but one will in Jesus 
Christ, (from fxonv^ alone, single, 0£X«/>ca, will,) and who, flying- 
from the convent of St. Maro, situated upon the borders of the 
Orontes, came to Mount Libanus, and instructed the inhabitants 
in that doctrine. The modern Maronites endeavour to contradict 
this general opinion, and to maintain, that their ancestors had al- 
ways lived in obedience to the see of Rome, and had always held 
the doctrines established as orthodox by that church. But their 
arguments seem very weak in support of that claim, for the united 
testimonies of many historians, well acquainted with the subject, 
and who had recourse to most authentic records, fully prove that 
they were not only formerly Monothelites, but also held that doc- 
trine down to the time of submitting themselves to the authority 
of Rome, in the twelfth century. Mosheim tells us, " that the 
Maronites stipulated to submit themselves to the spiritual juris- 
diction of the church of Rome under the express condition, that 
neither the pope, nor his emissaries, should attempt to abolish, or 
change, any thing that related to their ancient rites, or religious 
opinions; so that, in reality, there is nothing to be found among 
them that savours of popery, except their attachment to the Ro- 
man pontiff." This may have been very true in the days of Mos- 
heim, but it is evident from the relation of modern travellers, and 
missionaries, that the Maronites, now-a-days, are thorough papists, 
whether regarded in their superstitious observances of popish doc- 
trines and usages, or in their servile adherence to the purple ty- 
rant of the western churches. There are some Maronites, how- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 301 

other popish churches on Mount Libanus, may serve 
asan example of a virtuous, conscientious man, strug- 
gling against popish delusions, and endeavouring to 
direct the people to whom he was sent, to Christ for 
salvation, and not to the pope, and his impositions. 
The story of this worthy man 1 learned at Smyrna, 
Asia Minor, from those, (chiefly protestant mission- 
aries,) who were personally acquainted with him, and 
who to this day, lament hisuntimely death, caused, as 
will be seen inlhesequel,by themachinationsofRome. 
MonsignorGondolfi was com missioned, by the court 
of Rome, to proceed to the east, under the title of 
'^ delegato apostolico,^' or apostolic delegate. His 
implied duty was to take care of the interests of the 
church of Rome in that quarter, and to impress up- 
on the minds of the inhabitants the peculiar doc- 
trines of that church, which, as was complained of 
by the Maronite clergy, were fast losing ground, 
through the exertions of protestant missionaries, 

ever, in Syria, who still behold the church of Rome with aversion, 
and some of that nation, residing in Italy, have been known to 
oppose the pope's authority in the last century, and to unite them- 
selves to the Waldenses, in the valleys of Piedmont, whilst others, 
to the number of six hundred, with a bishop and several ecclesias- 
tics at their head, fled into Corsica, and implored the protection of 
the republic of Genoa, against the violence of the inquisitors. The 
patriarch of the Maronites, who is always called Peter, as if he 
claimed to be the lawful successor of that apostle, lives in the 
monastery of Cannubin, on Mount Libanus. He is elected by the 
clergy and the people, though since their subjection to the church 
of Rome, he is obliged to have a bull of confirmation from the 
pope. There are innumerable monasteries of Maronite monks on 
Mount Libanus, and in other parts of Syria; all distinguished, 
like their western brethren, for their abominable superstitions, 
supine ignorance, and last, not least, for their endeavours to in- 
crease the general ignorance of the people, and to enrich them- 
»elves at their expence. 
26 



302 SIX YEARS IN THE 

and the distribution of the Scriptures made by them. 
He was instructed to warn the people against the 
light of the Gospel, shed abroad by the labours of 
those missionaries, and to bring them back, if possi- 
ble, to the state of darkness and irreligion in which 
they w^ere prior to their labours among them. The 
Maronite priests and monks were to be considered 
as the more especial object of his mission: these he 
was to exhort, and encourage to be constant, and 
persevering in preaching the popish doctrines, and 
in leading the people to a blind reliance on them for 
salvation. As a stinudus to their zeal, he was sup- 
plied, by his holiness, with a camel-load of bulls, 
containing indulgences enough to wash Mahomet 
himself from his sins, if the Arab prophet could be 
supposed foolish enough to place any reliance 
upon them. These bulls, he was at liberty to dis- 
pose of to the monks, and other priests, of Mount 
Libanus, at a very low price — so much per hun- 
dred — who could afterw^ards retail them at higher 
rates to the people, and thus be gainers by the spe- 
culation: his instructions even went farther; for- if 
he found the clergy unable, or unwilling, to pur- 
chase the indulgences, he was commanded to give 
them at first cost, and for what they are really 
worth — nothing. By this policy, the pope hoped 
to get rid of his superfluous stock of indulgences 
which he very prudently considered it more advan- 
tageous to dispose of at half price, or even for what 
they cost himself — nothing, — than to have them ly- 
ing as useless lumber on his hands, and also, he was 
certain of one good effect proceeding from thus dis- 
posing of them, for he w^ould thereby enlist the 
avarice of the Maronite priests in support of his au- 
thority, who would be obliged, whilst making sale of 
them to the people, and crying up their value, to 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 303 

mingle the authority of himself — the granter of 
them, with the praises of their efficacy. 

This attempt to revive the dying superstitions of 
the Maroniles was very well planned, and would 
very probably have had the desired success, had the 
man selected for carrying it into execution, remain- 
ed faithful to the trust reposed in him; and which he 
could not do, unless, at the same time, he wished to 
remain unfaithful io God, and the dictates of his 
own conscience; for no one can serve two masters, 
God^ and mammon — God and the pope. Monsig- 
nor Gondolfi then chose the better part, and pre- 
ferred the service of God to the service of God's 
enemy — in fine, he chose rather to be faithful to 
God, though at the same time he exposed himself 
to the machinations of that church, which has long 
since dyed her garments in the blood of God^s peo- 
ple, and which, a short time after, added him to the 
number of those, who, at the day of judgment, will 
be crying out for vengeance against her — their mur- 
derer. He had long before his appointment to the 
eastern mission, lamented the fallen state of the 
Romish church, and the innumerable absurd doc- 
trines palmed upon the people by that church, as 
the essential and component parts of Christianity. 
Born of humble parents, with property barely suf- 
ficient to give himself and his brother, (an eminent 
physician, still living, I believe, at Damascus,) a 
liberal education, he early distinguished himself 
among his equals for his talents and acquirements, 
and attracted the notice of a cardinal, whose name I 
do not now recollect, who was his patron and friend 
during life; moved thereto, not by the adventitious 
circumstances of rank or riches, but by the inherent 
merits of 3^oung Gondolfi. Through his patronage 
and protection, he was, at an early age, created 
a prelate of the Romish church, having first render- 



304 SIX YEARS IN THE 

ed himself distinguished in most of the Italian pul- 
pits, for his eloquence and preaching. He was at 
his fiftieth year made " Episcopus in partibiiSy^^ 
or a bishop in pagan countries, and soon afterwards 
appointed to the eastern mission. Long before his 
departure from Rome for Syria, he had made up his 
mind to do his utmost in reforming the abuses of the 
church of Rome, and was predetermined to follow 
the Gospel as his guide, and to preach Jesus Christ 
and not the pope, to the people over whom he might 
be placed in authority. It is even said, that he me- 
ditated a journey to Switzerland, and under the pro- 
tection of the Swiss government, was determined to 
openly show his detestation for popery, but that his 
appointm^ent as delegate to Syria prevented him 
putting into execution that design, for he consider- 
ed, that he would have a wider field for propagating 
the religion of Jesus Christ among the Maronites, 
and other inhabitants of that region, than he possi- 
bly could expect to have in Switzerland, which was 
already blessed with many faithful preachers of the 
Gospel. 

Upon his arrival at Jerusalem, which city, accord- 
ing to his instructions, he was first to visit, he open- 
ed his commission, not by producing the bulls and 
indulgences with which his holiness had armed him, 
and which, perhaps, sanctified the belly of some fish, 
and gave it a passport to the pope's heaven, as he 
very probably threw them over-board, as an useless 
incumbrance, long before his landing; but by open- 
ly avowing his determination of using the authority 
bestowed him in reforming the lives of the idle, 
indolent, atheistical monks, chiefly Spanish and Ita- 
lian, who had convents in the holy city, under pre- 
text of serving and officiating at the holy sepulchre. 

The lives of these monks were, and still are, scan- 
dalous in the extreme. Far removed from the con- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 305 

troul of their superiors, they gave themselves up 
entirely to the gratification of their passions, regard- 
less of the scandal and bad example which they were 
showing to Mahometans, Jews, and other infidels, 
for whose instruction they were sent thither. Their 
whole care was in amassing money; not knowing 
the day they would be recalled to Spain, or Italy, 
by their different superiors: they made an unhal- 
lowed gain of the things of the Holy Sepulchre, 
which, by the way, is rendered cursed^ and pollut- 
ed by them; if, indeed, the precise spot in which 
the body of our Saviour was deposited, be known at 
all:— they practised their impositions on the unfor- 
tunate pilgrims, whom the demon of superstition 
leads to visit that city, in hopes of obtaining some 
temporal or spiritual benefit; and spend, either on 
the spot, in carousals, or something worse, or hoard 
up to spend, with more refinement, on their return 
to their own countries, the money gained from such 
impositions.. With these demons, in the dress of 
monks, had Gondolfi to combat, and restrain. He 
had before some knowledge of the scandalous lives 
they led, but had no idea of their being so mon- 
strously wicked as he found them. He began by 
obliging them to preach daily to the pilgrims — a 
custom long since forgotten by them — by keeping 
them more within doors, and by prohibiting the 
sale of those things to which popular superstition, 
excited by priest-craft, had attributed some imagi- 
nary value. He preached himself constantly, and 
his theme was, not the value of relics, the virtue of 
pilgrimages, the power of the priests; but the death 
of Christ, by which all men were freed from sin; a 
subject to which the place itself added redoubled 
force. In the mean time, the monks, enraged at 
having a stop put to their nefarious practices, and 
feeling the loss accruing from the prohibition of the 
26* 



306 SIX YEARS IN THE 

sale of their fictitious relics of Christ, consulted with 
one another, and concluded, that the only, way they 
had of recovering their lost privileges, was to en- 
deavour to bring about the disgrace of their perse- 
cutor, Gondolfi. With this intent, they immediate- 
ly despatched a letter to Rome, signed b}^ all, as a 
body, wherein they accused Gondolfi of heresy, 
and of a wish to subvert the Roman Catholic reli- 
gion in Jerusalem; they added, that he openly des- 
pised the holy places, and exhorted the pilgrims, 
who came to visit them through devotion, not to 
place any trust, or put confidence in the various ob- 
jects of devotion which were pointed out to them 
by the monks, and to each of which were attached 
indulgences, granted by the supreme pontiff^ to 
those pilgrims who devoutly worship them, and 
leave a sum of money for their better keeping. The 
latter part of their accusation had some foundation 
in truth; perhaps, indeed, the accusation was wholly 
true, though Gondolfi did not manifest immediately 
the design already formed, of undermining the 
pope's authority in the holy land; he however 
showed an open indifference for the sacred places, 
and hardly had the curiosity of a common traveller 
in examining them: being unwilling, no doubt, to 
give, in his own person, an example of devotion to 
things which he considered, in themselves, as nei- 
ther bad nor good, but perverted into the former 
by those who wished to make them the means of 
deceiving others, and of supplying themselves with 
all the luxuries possible to be found in the luxuri- 
ous country they were living in. 

After remaining about two months in Jerusalem, 
during which time he laboured with the greatest di- 
ligence in bringing about the reform of the monks, 
and in endeavouring to keep them within the bounds 
of common decency, though at the greatest peril of 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C, 307 

his life ; being obliged through fear of being poison- 
ed — a no unfreqnent practice with monks against 
those, who endeavour to christianize thenn — to be 
cautious of using any food, unless that purchased and 
prepared by his own servant ; he removed to the 
Maronite convent of Cannubin, where the patriarch 
resided, and was received by him with those marks 
of honour and respect, usually bestowed upon one 
of his high clerical dignity and on the office he held, 
as delegate from the church of Rome. He here had 
to commence his labours anew, for though he did 
not find the Maronite clergy so shamefully wicked 
as he had found the western monks in Jerusalem, he 
yet found them sunk into the most degraded state of 
ignorance and superstition, some priests being scarce- 
ly able to read the missal, not to say, understand it, 
whilst others were unacquainted with the first prin- 
ciples of Christianity. They had made extensTve 
additions to the fictitious helps to salvation, which 
they were taught by those of their body, who studied 
at Rome. Their whole religion consisted in a reit- 
eration of Syriac prayers, which they did not under- 
stand, in prayers and adorations of images and relics, 
and in fasting and abstaining from certain meats du- 
ring a great part of the year. Those of the secular 
clergy who were married (for the pope not being 
able to prevent granted them the privilege of having 
wives) were usually employed in some handicraft 
. trade, endeavouring to earn a subsistence for their 
families ; totally neglectful of every thing appertain- 
ing to the duty of a clergyman. In fine, according 
to his own words, expressed to a protestant mis- 
sionary, with whom he formed an acquaintance, "he 
found more religion, and a juster notion of the wor- 
ship of God among their neighbours the Druses, 
who are supposed to be semi-Mahometan — and, 
semi-Heathen, than among the Maronite clergy, 



S'08 SIX YEARS IN THE 

who are called Christians.^^ If then so deplorable 
be the^tale of the clergy, what must that of the peo- 
ple be ? Some of the people were not entirely so 
fallen as the generalit}^ of theu^ priests, thanks to the 
labours of the protestant missionaries among them, 
and to the distribution of copies of the' Scriptures, or 
detached portions of the new testament, especially 
the Gospels, made by them. Such of the people as 
were able to read, and received these books, were 
Christians in some sense, and a great many of them 
were even pious and devoted ones ; but then they 
rendered themselves objects of persecution to their 
fanatical neighbours, and to the ignorant priests, 
who supposed that no Christianity could possibly 
exist without crossings, holy water, images, relics, 
and such like mummery. The missionaries attempt- 
ed to establish schools for the instruction of their 
chi4dren, but without effect : those who saw the ben- 
efits likely to accrue to their offspring from educa- 
tion, feared the priests, if they should send them to 
the missionary schools; and those who could not 
understand these advantages, detested the missiona- 
ries too much, and therefore would as soon see 
their children Mahometans, as their scholars. 

Such was the state of the Maronite people and 
clergy at the time of Monsignor Gondolfi's arrival 
among them. His first care was to endeavour to 
instruct the clergy, and to have regular sermons 
preached to the people. He then endeavoured to 
lessen their respect for the objects of their supersti- 
tious worshipandtoincrease itfor Christ and his Gos- 
pel ; or rather to create a reliance on the latter, with 
which they were entirely unacquainted. When 
asked by the Maronite patriarch, whether the 
priests and the people had acted right in refusing the 
heretical books (so they called the Scriptures) 
which were offered them by protestant missionaries, 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 309 

he used no subterfuge, but answered plainly " they 
had 7iot,^^ He endeavoured to explain to them the 
benefits arising from a knowledge of the Sacred 
Writings, and the inefficacy of all other things to ob- 
tain salvation, unassisted by the revealed Word. 
By these, and such like discourses, he showed him- 
self a Bible-Christian, and favourer of the reformeid 
religion. Nor did he escape the notice of the Ma- 
ronite priests, ignorant as they were, and especially 
of those who had acquired some comparative degree 
of information by studying at Rome. Tiiese exci- 
ted the patriarch and their other brethren against 
him, so that in less than nine months, his virtues 
and efforts to serve them made him as hateful to the 
Maronites as the like qualities had before rendered 
him to the Jerusalem monks. Conscious however 
of his own pious intentions, and of the goodness of the 
cause in which he had embarked, he still persevered, 
and opposed to their insults and even attempts to 
take his life, in which they, at last, succeeded, no- 
thing but mildness and firmness. Many letters were 
written to the court of Rome against him by the 
patriarch and his monks, accusing him of heresy, 
and of endeavouring to withdraw the Syrian Catho- 
lics from their obedience to Rome. He had long 
since received letters from the Propaganda per- 
remptorily ordering his return, but these he thought 
proper to treat with that neglect, which ^ they de- 
served. He was then formally degraded from his 
office, and excommunicated, notification of such pro- 
ceedings being immediately transmitted to the Ma- 
ronite Patriarch, who forthwith expelled him from 
the convent. After his expulsion, he still continued 
his labours among them and had collected together 
a small church which he daily and indefatigably in- 
structed in the leading points of Christianity, un- 
mixed with the dross of Romish inventions^ and had 



310 SIX YEARS IN THE 

already acquired the respect and esteem of all good 
men, when he was disturhed from this sphere of 
usefulness hy the arrival of his successor in the del- 
egacy, a bigotted fanatic, than whom Rome could 
not have chosen a more fitting person to carry into 
execution her schemes of impositions. 

Unlike Gondolfi, this worthless individual whose 
name I do not know, began his mission by flat- 
tering the patriarch and monks in their evil prac- 
tices, and superstitious worship : he overturned 
all the improvements made by the former, and 
soon brought them back to the wretched state 
in which he had found them. Bibles were sought 
for and destro3^ed by thousands, and all those 
who listened to the sermons or went to the schools 
of either Gondolfi or the protestant missiona- 
ries \\ eve ipso facto excommunicated. Gondolfi 
finding his influence among the people decreasing, 
and seeing the inutility of his efforts to resist the 
tide of corruption, resolved upon leaving a place, 
where the opposition to improvement was so vigo- 
rous. But nothing else than his death could satisfy 
popish rancour. Some days before the time ap- 
pointed for removing to Alexandria, where he 
hoped to obtain a passage to Marseilles, and thence 
to Switzerland, he was found dead in his bed, having 
been poisoned at the house of a Maronite priest, 
who pretended friendship for him and with whom 
he spent the evening previous to his death. The 
effects of the poison administered to him (in a cup 
of coffee, it is supposed, and with reason too, it being 
the eastern custom to present a pipe and coffee to 
visitors) was not instantaneous : he had time to re- 
turn to his own house and retire to bed, before he 
felt the least symptoms of indisposition, from which 
he never arose, being found, as already related, dead 
in the morning. His body was svvollen to a mon- 
strous bulk, and left unburied for more than thirty- 



MONASTERIES ^F ITALY^ &C. 31 1 

six hours, a very long time in that warm climate. 
It was at last buried by the Druses; the Maronites, 
who gave out that his death was caused by the visi- 
tation of God for his heresy and schism, being un- 
willing to pollute themselves with the touch of the 
body of an excommunicated person, and of one who 
died under the censure of the Holy Roman Catholic 
Church. They brought his death forw^ard in their 
sermons as an example of the way in wdiich God 
punishes, even in this world, those who make them- 
selves Heresiarchs, and disseminators of heresy, and 
attributed it entirely to the vengeance of God, 
and never to the true cause, wdiich they well knew — 
the vengeance of the church of Rome. 

Thus died Monsignor Gondolfi, a man of superi- 
or talents, learning, and piety, and who, had his lot 
been cast among any other portion of the Christian 
community, than in that of the intolerant, and al- 
most heathenish one of popery, would have shone 
forth as a brilliant light among the people of God, 
and contributed by his labours and example to the 
increase of God^s kingdom, and edification of God's 
people. He m.ay serve as an example of a pious 
man, preferring the service of Jesus Christ to world- 
ly honours and riches, and labouring at the hazard 
of his life, in dissipating the clouds of darkness, (and 
with a certainty of irretrievably destroying his 
temporal prospects) in which the minds of Christians 
w^ere enveloped by the worldly policy, and soul- 
destroying superstitions of the church, of which he 
was a dignitary. By the manner of his death may 
be exemplified the ways made use of by modern 
popery in stopping the mouths of those, whose con- 
sciences excite them to speak against and expose her 
abuses and impositions, and of her little regard for 
the heinousness of the means, so that they bring 
about the desired end. Probably, the miserable 



312 SIX YEARS IN THE 

man who administered the poison to his guest, 
Gondolfi, was armed before hand with a brief from 
the pope, by which he was granted indulgences for 
the commission of the crime, which, so far from 
considering in that light, he considered a meritorious 
act, and one worthy of eternal reward. It may be 
asked whether the Turkish government had not ta- 
ken notice of the sudden death of so notable a char- 
acter, and examained into the cause of it ? To those 
acquainted with the distracted state of Turkey, it is 
needless to say, that violent deaths are so numerous, 
that they are looked upon as every day occurrences, 
and are hardly taken notice of by the government ; 
but when they are, it is more for the purpose of ex- 
torting money from the innocent, than of bringing 
the murderers to justice. If then the government 
had examined at all into the circumstances attend- 
ing Gondolfi's death, popish gold could have very 
easily screened the murderer from Mahometan jus- 
tice : a few purses to the Turkish magistrate, and all is 
hushed. Let this answer satisfy those also, who are 
not acquainted with Turkish customs. 

Indulgences are also granted for sins not yet com- 
mitted, but which the purchaser of them intends to 
commit within a given time. These are called ''in- 
didgenze secrete^^ or secret indulgences, by the 
Italians, and are not sold openly; the principle be- 
ing too glaringly monstrous, even in the opinion of 
those, who practise upon it, to meet the face of day. 
They are, nevertheless, obtained by making appli- 
cation to any one of the penitentiaries * of St. Pe- 

* Penitentiaries in the church of Rome, are of two kinds : the 
first, and those to whom allusion is made above, is composed of 
certain priests, mostly Franciscan friars, vested by the pope with 
the power of absolving certain cases reserved to himself. These 
hold Iheir stalls or confession-boxes in the church of St. Peter's at 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 313 

ter'Sj and as he may judge the reasons assigned for 
the necessity of committing such and such sins to 
be satisfactory or otherwise, they are granted or 
withheld accordingly, though the former is more 
frequently the case. If the sin bargained for, be of 
individual advantage to the person about to commit 
it, the price charged is most enormous, and exceeds 
the abilities of the poor, who, therefore, are, through 
want of money, obliged to commit it first, and get 
absolved, a ban marche^ afterwards ; but if it be 
for the general advantage of the Romish church, then 
the penitentiary endeavours to obtain for the peni- 
tent the indulgence, or leave to commit it gratis; 
exhorting him at the same time to be diligent in 
performing his duty towards the church, and in con- 
sulting for her vv^elfare, and finishing his pious ex- 
hortation with a Latin quotation from some old 
schoolman, which, to give it greater weight, he fa- 
thers upon Augustin, Ambrose, or some other Saint 
of great nanie, as: "No one can have God for a 
Jather, loho has not the church for a motherP 
"Nemo j)otest habere Deitm pro patre^ qui eccle- 
siam non habet pro matre.^^ Stus. Aug. de. Infall. 
sum. pon. lib. 100, cap. 1000, sec. 47, tom. 600, fol. 
edi. Rom. &c. He adds the name of the author, 
page, volume, &c., in order to increase the admira- 
tion and stupor of his unfortunate penitent. 

Secret indulgences are seldom granted, as far as I 
could learn, for the commission of murder, robbery, 
&c., in cases of individuals: they are chiefly con- 
fined to the liberty of cheating, without sin, each 

Rome, and to them application must be first made, in order to ob- 
tain the secret bulls. Having obtained a written order from these, 
the indulgence-buyer delivers it to those of the second kind, who 
have the immediate direction of the bulls, and who receive the 
money for them. What an unholy traffic ! — but such is popery. 
21 



314 SIX YEARS IN THE 

other in their commercial pursuits, in forming mar- 
riage connections within the forbidden degrees of 
kindred; so that a man may marry his grandmother, 
if he be rich enough to purchase an indulgence, (in 
cases of this kind, called dispensations) for so doing, 
in keeping a mistress, in procuring abortion; and 
other things of this nature. No special indulgence 
is required for acting in any way, however sinful. 
by which people called heretics might be injured in 
their persons, property, or character; nay, those who 
do not act so, fall under the censure of the church; 
for a general indulgence has been granted by more 
than one pope, for the suppression of heresy and ex- 
tirpation of heretics, and all who keep faith with 
them, are, ipso facto^ excommunicated, and become 
partakers of their alleged guilt, and liable to the 
same punishments. We learn from history, that 
secret indulgences have been often granted for the 
assassination of heretical kings, of disseminators of 
heresy, or of any others, who may have rendered 
themselves by their waitings or influence, hateful to 
the church of Rome in general, or to its head; the 
pope in particular. The infamous Alexander VI * 

* Of all the monsters — and they were many — that ever sat upon 
the papal throne, none ever came up to Alexander VI, in impiety, 
cruelty, and avarice. He was born in Valencin, Spain. His fami- 
ly was that of Borgia, and he himself was called Theodoric Borgia 
before his election to the popedom. Whilst yet a young man, and 
a Cardinal, to which dignity he was exalted by his uncle, Calistus 
HI, though some say, that he was the latter pope's bastard, he 
lived publicly in concubinage with a Roman lady of great beauty, 
by whom he had three children — two sons and one daughter. Af- 
ter his election to the popedom, in 1492, he spared neither blood 
nor conscience in enriching these his bastards. He was the mo- 
ving cause of all the wars and disturbances that harassed Europe, 
during that period, and seems, notwithstanding his papal dignity, 
to have been held in utter abomination, both by his ov/n subjects. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 315 

was accustomed to grant indulgences under his own 
hand and seal, to the assassins hired by him, for the 
purpose of way-laying and murdering the princes 
or other men of rank, who fell under his displea- 

and by the other nations of Europe. His eldest son CaBsar, whom 
he made a Cardinal at an early age, and whom he afterwards ab- 
solved from his vow of chastity, in order to marry him to the daugh- 
ter of the Duke of^Ferrara; this same Caesar, murdered his younger 
brother, through jealousy of his being higher in the affections of 
their common sister, whose favours, without having any regard to 
the ties of consanguinity, they both equally shared — children truly 
worthy of such a father! The day of retribution at length came. 
At a dinner prepared for the express purpose of poisoning some of 
the Cardinals and Roman senators, whose property he coveted, or 
whose dignities he wanted to sell to the highest bidder, the poisoned 
wine was, by mistake, served up to himself, and his son Caesar; and 
thus, by the just judgment of God, he fell into the pit he had made 
for the destruction of others. The poison had a fatal effect on the 
pope, and put an end — an event so anxiously wishes for — to his 
career of crime, and impiety: his hopeful son, Csesar, recovered 
from its effects by having quick recourse to an antidote, which he 
always carried about him, being, no doubt, conscious of the provo- 
cation his crimes gave many to attempt his life. After his father's 
death, he retired to his castle at Ferrara, of which town he was 
before made duke, where he maintained a siege of some months 
against an army sent by his father's successor against him. He 
was forced to flee from Italy in the end, and having been reduced 
to great poverty, he, some few years after, was found dead in a 
ditch, not without well-grounded suspicions of having accelerated 
his own end. The following epitaph, written by a popish priest of 
that period, will give the reader some idea of the detestation in 
which this impious pope was held by all classes — laical and clerical: 

Saevitise, insidiae, rabies, furor, ira, libido 

Sanguinis et diri spongia, dira sitis; 

Sextus Alexander jaceo hie, jam libera gaude 

Roma : tibi quoniam mors mea vita fuit. 
"Here I, (the unhappy man himself is made the narrator of his 
own infamy,) Alexander VI, lie : cruelty, treachery, fury, madness, 



316 SIX YEARS IN THE 

sure on account of opposing him in his unholy de- 
signs; or for whose riches he' had a gaping desire, 
in order to enrich his bastard children, Csesar Borgia, 
and brother and sister. Many other instances might 
be given of indulgences being granted for doing 
away with, either the personal enemies of popes, or 
the enemies of their doctrines. The foregoing one 
of Alexander VI, is so well authenticated, that po- 
pish historians themselves, being unable to pass it 
over, have been obliged to make mention of it; yet 
some of them endeavour to excuse it by a fine drawn 
distinction between "/Ae pope as a man^ and the 
same as vicar of Christ, and head of the church.^^ 
Bernini in his ''Storia di tutta Veresia,^^ a book 
written expressly for upholding the papal authority, 
mentions it, but attempts to get over it in the above 
way. But it may be asked both of Bernini and 
others; by what authority is such a monstrous doc- 
trine supported at ail? Not certainly, by that of 
revelation. Besides, if such a doctrine did not exist, 
the evil-minded popes could not use it for the grati- 
fication of their blood-thirsty propensities, and of 
their avarice. Why not then do away with it alto- 
gether, and for once shame the d — 1 by telling the 
truth, and confessing, that the church and pope too 
had erred in assuming, without authority, so mon- 
strous a doctrine, and so dreadful in its consequen- 
ces, as a part of the religion of Christ. But this 
would be an act of honesty, for which no one ac- 
quainted with the church of Rome, can ever suspect 
her; and she therefore continues heaping one error 
upon another, and making the latter the support of 
the former, till she has arrived at her present state 

anger, and lust lie here ; a sponge steeped in blood and horror, for 
which my thirst was insatiable. Now, O Rome, rejoice in thy liber- 
ty, for my death is thy life." 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 317 



of corruption, as to have nothing of the religion of 
Christ afiout her but the name— so difficult it is to 
support a lie without calling in other lies to its as- 
sistance; to support the erroneous doctrine of infal- 
libility without the prop of other doctrines equally- 
erroneous. "An ounce of honesty is better than a 
pound of policy/' is an old saying, and had the 
church of Rome practised upon it, or even given 
ear to the moral precept "hominis est errare, bestiae 
auteni in erroribus permanere,'' "Men are liable 
to err^ but none but beasts persevere in their er- 
rorsf^ had she, on her first falling into error, con- 
fessed it and made reparation for it, instead of en- 
deavouring to support it, she would not be to-day so 
bestial a church, and the stone of scandal, and rock 
of offence to the whole Christian world. As to the 
wire-drawn distinction between the official and in- 
dividual character of Alexander VI, by which pa- 
picolists endeavour to cast his crimes from the pope 
to the man, I would gladly learn; when Alexander 
VI went to visit his infernal majesty in his nether 
dominions, as a man; (and it is no uncharitableness 
to say, that he has, if there be — and I have no doubt 
of it — a place of future rewards and punishments,) 
what then became of the same, as a pope?* 

* It would seem from the following anecdote that these meta- 
physical distinctions are not made in favour of popes alone, but 
sometimes also in favour of less dignified churchmen. A German 
peasant seeing the Archbishop of Magdeburg, of indulgence-sell- 
ing memory, who was also elector of Mentz, passing by, surround- 
ed by his guards, and dressed in a military uniform, he burst out 
into an immoderate fit of laughter, which attracted the notice of 
the archbishop. Upon being asked the reason of his merriment^ 
he replied, " because I see Your Grace, a churchman, dressed as a 
soldier." " Bat don't you know," said His Grace, "that I am an 
elector of the empire, as well as an archbishop?" "yes," answered 
the peasant ; " but I would like to know, when Your Highness, the 

27* 



318 SIX YEARS IN THE 

The massacre of St. Bartholomew is another in- 
stance, though on a larger scale, of indulgences being 
granted for the destruction of those, whom the 
church of Rome honour with the name of heretics. 
Indulgences were granted beforehand for the perpe- 
tration of that horrid massacre, as is ev^ident from 
the little surprise, but exceedingly great joy exhibi- 
ted by the court of Rome upon receiving the news. 
It was. a thing expected; the plot having been laid 
at Rome, and the necessary indulgences granted, be- 
fore its execution at Paris and other parts of France. 
Most probably, there was a plenary indulgence, and 
the freedom of some hundreds of souls from Purga- 
tory for ever}^ unfortunate Huguenot sacrificed that 
day to popish intolerance. A solemn Te Deum 
was sung at St. Peter's, and a public thanksgiving 
ordered through every church, acknowledging at its 
head the purpled monster, who sanctioned, and even 
encouraged so hellish a carnage. 

One instance more, and 1 have done. Fra Paolo, 
author of the history of the council of Trent was sus- 
pected of heresy. He retired to his native city, Ve- 
nice, and was protected by that republic, which felt 
honored in having so learned a man one of its citi- 
zens. The court of Rome, however, could not rest 
satisfied without his death. One of the professional 
spadacini^ or assassins, who abounded in Rome at 
that time, (I6th century) nor are they very scarce 
even at this day; one of these was hired by the pope 
and cardinals, and dispatched to Venice for the pur- 
pose of assassinating Fra Paolo; being fortified be- 
forehand with an indulgence, and promised a large 
sum of money, in case of success. He had remained 
some time at Venice before a favorable opportunity 

elector goes to the de — 1, where will Your Grace, tlie archbishop 
go?" 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 319 

presented of executing his commission; so cautious- 
ly did Fra Paolo, who knew the spirit of the Rom- 
ish church, keep himself on his guard against her 
machinations. One morning, however, very early, 
as he was going to the house of a Venetian noble- 
man to assist at the last moments of one of the fami- 
ly, he was watched by the pope's emissary, who 
went up to him to kiss his hand, which is a manner 
of showing respect to a priest common in Ital}^, and 
being put off his guard by that act of respect received 
the assassin^s dagger in his side. Some people com- 
ing accidentally that way, and seeing what occurred, 
pursued the'wretch, who immediately fled, leaving the 
dagger in the wound. He wasapprehended, and con- 
fessed the whole plot, and who were his employers, 
upon condition of his life being spared. The court of 
Rome flatly denied having given any such commis- 
sion to any one; thus adding lying to treachery as 
is its custom. Fra Paolo, however, recovered of 
his wound, and kept the dagger, on which he got 
inscribed the words '' Stiletto delta chiesa Roma- 
na^ per Fra Paolo " (the dagger of the Roman 
church for Fra Paolo,) as a precious relic, hung up 
in his bed-room during the remainder of his life. 
The same dagger is still preserved in one of thepro- 
testant cities of Germany, I forget which, a last- 
ing memorial of popish treachery, and of the murder- 
ous use to which the pope converts his assumed 
power of granting indulgences. 

Every bishop, in his own diocess, has also the pow- 
er of granting secret indulgences to those of his flock 
that can purchase them. The same power, with 
which the pope has vested the penitentiaries of St. 
Peter's, he can also bestow upon one or two priests 
of his cathedral. These, like their brethren at St. 
Peter's, can grant indulgences for minor sins, that 
is, minor, when compared with murder, robbery, 



520 SIX YEARS IN THE 

&c. But not only are indulgences granted for the 
use and benefit of the living purchasers; but also the 
same purchasers, whilst in health provide themselves 
with indulgences, and absokitions of their crimes, 
sins and offences, signed, sealed, and delivered, and 
v^^'hich are buried with them when they die. These 
documents are written in Latin; and serve as a pass- 
port to heaven — a sure sign, according to the opin- 
ion of the church of Rome — an infallible authority 
in cases of this nature — that the ge?is d^ armes, and 
other police officers of the other world, understand 
Latin ; otherwise how would they be able to 
know, whether the bearers of them have their 
passports en regie ? as the French police say. The 
question was for some time disputed on in the 
schools of theology '' whether the D — Vs police un- 
derstand Latin, or not?" for that God's police have 
a knowledge of that language, no one would be im- 
pious enough to doubt. After many orations and 
learned discourses on the different sides of the ques- 
tion, it wasat last decided in the negative'^nd therea- 
son given was; that God would not allow a knowledge 
of that language to his enemies, in which the most ac- 
ceptable sacrifice — thatof the mass — Vv^as daily offered 
up to him. It wasobjected by the opposite side, that if 
the D — Is had not a knowledge of Latin, many souls 
armed with pontifical bulls and indulgences, might 
be impeded in their flight to heaven, by being stop- 
ped on the road by those who could not understand 
their documents; but this objection was done away 
with by bringing under consideration the fact of 
such bulls, and indulgences being always fortified 
with the pope's seal, and that though the officers of 
Satan could not make use of their understanding 
yet they could of their 6ye.y, and respect accordingly 
a document bearing the seal of Christ's vicar on 
earth, though its contents be unknown to them \ be- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 321 

ing well aware, (sagely add the theologians) that he 
(the pope) would never put or cause to be put, his 
seal, unless upon things, which cannot be otherwise 
than agreeable to the divine majesty! — So much for 
theological disputations. It may perhaps be sus- 
pected, that the foregoing question never existed, or 
never was disputed upon but by myself. Those, 
who think so, have a very erroneous idea of popish 
schools of theology. Not only has the above ques- 
tion engaged the attention of grave theologians, but 
thousands of such questions much more absurd and 
ridiculous if possible, are daily discussed by the the- 
ological students of the church of Rome. By such 
questions as these, is the young mind of the student 
drawn away from meditating upon the great truths 
of Christianity, and fixed upon the peculiar doctrines 
of popery. By seeing those minutiae so warmly de- 
fended, he, by degrees, learns to consider them as 
things of importance, and very soon lets go the sub- 
stance — Christianity itself — and grasps at the shadow 
— the ravings of theologians, and the inventions of 
popes and cardinals — But enough of Indulgences. 



322 SIX YEARS IN THE 



CHAPTER XXVII. , 

Departure from Rome — Refused permision to return to Ireland- 
Plan of escape — How executed — Arrival at Marseilles and Lyons 
— Geneva — Monsieur Cheneviere — Socinianism — English travel- 
lers on the continent of Europe — Rabbi M s, the converted 

Jew — His perfidy — Arrival in London — Treatment received from 
false and perfidious Friends. 

Having in the foregoing chapters given an ac- 
count of the domestic life of monks, interspersed 
with remarks upon some of the leading doctrines of 
the Romish church, I shall now proceed to relate the 
manner, in which, through God's mercy, I became 
emancipated from the galling yoke of monachism, 
and its disgusting practices. The manners and cus- 
toms of the popish clergy of Malta, Smyrna, and the 
Ionian islands, will also form the subjects of some 
following chapters. The various stages of adverse 
fortune, through which I passed before arriving in 
America, may lead the reader to form a just notion 
of the difficulties, which those, who belonged to the 
Romish clergy, and whose consciences obliged them 
to separate from it, have to encounter, partly from 
the persecutions of their quondam co-religionists, 
and partly from the luke warmness of those, who 
call themselves '' friends of the Gospel.'^ How far 
the latter deserve that name, may be seen from the 
manner I myself have been treated by such gentry. — 

The seventh year of my monkish life was now com- 
mencing, and I had already passed through the different 
studies required, before being sent as a missionary to 
my own country, (Ireland,) when, unable to bear any 
longer the mask of hypocrisy, which self-preserva- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 323 

tion obliged me to wear, I resolved upon leaving 
Rome, and the Roman states, and seek a refuge in 
some country, where I would not be forced by cir- 
cumstances to appear, what I really was not — a ser- 
vile adherent to pope and popery, I was, at this 
time, I mu^t confess, a confirmed infidel, and a scof- 
fer at Christianity, under whatever form it might 
appear. It was not then through any love for Pro- 
testantism, that I was so desirous to make my escape 
from popish thraldom. 1 was convinced, that Chris- 
tianity was, on the whole, a fable, and the invention 
of self-interested men, who make use of it to domi- 
neer with greater ease over their less cunning, or less 
fortunate fellow creatures. 1 had not, at this time, the 
least notion, that the Christianity, with which I was 
acquainted in the church of Rome, and the pure ge- 
nuine Christianity, established by its divine Author, 
were as different, as one thing could possibly be from 
another; the former carrying imprinted upon it the 
work, and handicraft of man, whilst the latter could 
not proceed from any other source less pure than the 
inspiration of the Deity. I was unable, so incredu- 
lous and sceptical had I become by the abominations 
of monkery, to see any benefit, that a firm belief in 
the blessed doctrine of atonement through the blood 
of Christ, could bring to man. The doctrine itself, 
I was acquainted with, but the way of applying it to 
heal the wounded spirit, or the broken heart, I was 
wholly ignorant of. 

My health being really very bad, it required 
very little simulation, on my part, to persuade 
the convent physician to grant me a paper, by 
which he gave it as his professional opinion, "that 
an immediate removal to my native air, was 
absolutely necessary for the restoration of my 
health.^' The disturbed state of my mind, weighed 
down by skepticism, and a consciousnesss of living- 
^a direct variance with my better judgment, had ^ 



324 SIX YEARS IN THE 

sensible effect on my bodily strength. I was fast 
falling into a decline, and had I remained one year, 
nay, a few months longer in the monkish habit, it is 
more than probable, that I would not be now alive 
to relate the abominations of monkery. Armed with 
the physician's certificate, which was itself confirmed 
by my sickly appearance, I sought the General of 
the order, and requested his permission to return to 
Ireland, without waiting until I would reach the age 
appointed by the canons for receiving the order of 
priesthood, I had already, as bel^ore mentioned, 
received the other six orders, and, indeed, had no 
ambition to be dubbed a priest, that is, to be gifted 
w:\\\i \\\Q hocus pocus 'AV\. of making viy God, So 
far from the desire of being priested having had 
any share in my thoughts, I dreaded the arrival of 
the moment, when I would be obliged, nolens volens 
to receive priests' orders. The General, however, 
refused to give me the required permission. The 
only thing 1 could obtain from him, was leave to go 
for a few months to Pisa, or Leghorn. Fearing, 
that I might take his refusal too much to heart, he 
promised me, at the same time, that he himself would 
use his influence with the pope, in order to obtain 
for me a dispensation of eighteen months, by w^hich 
I could be ordained priest at the age of twenty-two 
years and a half — a favor seldom granted by his holi- 
ness, unless to those, who are backed by powerful 
interest, and able to pay well for it. 

Finding that prayers and entreaties availed me lit- 
tle with the General and that I had very little chance 
of effecting my escape, if 1 remained at Rome, I de- 
cided upon making use of his permission to go to 
Leghorn, and trust to som,e favourable opportunity 
to put myself out of the reachof monkish jurisdiction. 
My hopes were chiefly founded upon the probabili- 
ty of falling in with at Leghorn, some English ves- 



MONASTERIES OF IT ALY, .ScC. 325 

sel, that might aid me in my preconceived plan of 
flight. Upon my arrival in that city, my first care 
was to make acquaintance with the English consul. 
Fearing, however, that he might betray my inten- 
tions, I was veiy cautious at first in giving him a 
knowledge of my designs; but finding, after an ac- 
quaintance of some vveeks, that he detested monkery 
and priestcraft as much as they deserved, I opened 
myself to him without reserve. He very honestly 
advised me to ponder well upon the probable conse- 
quences before I went too far to recede. He laid 
open the difficulties I might have to encounter, in or- 
der to maintain my rank in society, if I should di- 
vest myself of my profession; and brought before 
my eyes the lukewarmness of those^ who call them- 
selves the friends of Gospel freedom. " If how- 
ever,^' said he, "you are determined at ail hazards 
to shake oS' the yoke of monachism, I shall not be 
backward in affording you every assistance in my 
power.'' Having received some weeks before, a 
remittance of money from my father, (the last I have 
ever received from him) my pecuniary resources 
were in a state to defray the expenses of a journey to 
Switzerland — the nearest land of freedom, and there 
fore the place I made up my mind to go to, in the 
event of succeeding in my designs. I entrusted pait 
of this money to the consul, in order that he might 
purchase secular clothes for me. To avoid all sus- 
picion, a young man, clerk in the consul's office, 
presented himself to the tailor in my place; which 
young man being about my size and stature, the 
clothes that would fit him would also fit me. 

Nothing was now wanting for the immediate ex- 
ecution of my plans, but the falling in with some 
vessel, that would take me aboard and land me at 
Marseilles, without requiring the necessary papers 
from the civil authorities at Leghorn. It was use- 
28 



326 SIX YEARS IN THE 

less to expect, that any Tuscan, or Italian ship-mas- 
ter would run the risk ; my whole dependence then 
was upon meeting with some English or French 
vessel, about to sail for the above port. The for- 
mer luckily presented after some weeks anxious ex- 
pectation on my part. An English brig having ta- 
ken in part of her cargo at Leghorn, had to touch 
at Marseilles to take in the remainder. The Consul 
introduced metoher captain, who readily consented to 
take me aboard, and land me at Marseilles. The latter 
positively refused, at the same time, to receive any 
compensation for his trouble; observing, ''that he 
deemed it a sufficient reward, if he could be the 
means of rescuing a fellow countryman from slave- 
ry.'^ All things being in readiness for my flight, 
I accompanied the captain in his own boat aboard, 
under pretext of seeing him put to sea ; his ship 
being already outside the harbour's mouth, and on- 
ly waiting his coming aboard to set sail. The mo- 
ment then, that I placed my foot on the deck, I pro- 
nounced myself /ree, and out of the grasp of mon- 
kish tyranny. Indeed it would require the exercise 
of all the miraculous power, to which monks lay 
claim, to get me again within their clutches. 

One thing, however, happened very unfortunately, 
and was well nigh frustrating the whole plan. The 
secular clothes, which were prepared for me, were 
left ashore at Leghorn, either through design or ac- 
cident — I do not know, which. I attribute it, how- 
ever, to the treachery of the person, to whom the 
consul entrusted them, in order to carry them 
aboard ; and by no means, to the consul, himself. 
The latter had kindly provided me with an English 
passport, whereby I was described as a British sub- 
ject, on a travelling excursion. This was sufficient 
to excite the suspicion of the French authorities; 
and had I arrived in France in a monkish habit, some 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, StC. 327 

fifty years earlier, that is, had I arrived there a few 
years before the first French revolution, I would 
have learned to my cost, that Italy was not the only 
country in the world, wherein monks are imprison- 
ed for attempting to throw off the yoke of mona- 
chism. But France had — luckily enough for me — 
emancipated herself from priestcraft, and monkery, 
long before my arrival ; and I therefore experienced 
no greater difficulty from being habited as a monk ; 
than what proceeded from being stared at, and 
laughed at, on account of my (to them) unusual, and 
uncouth dress. 

After a few weeks' stay at Marseilles, during 
which I was pestered with invitations from the po- 
pish bishop to call upon him at his palace, and 
which invitations, I took the liberty to neglect ; 1 
set out for Lyons, still dressed in the monastic hab- 
it : indeed, finding, that this dress did not expose 
me to any danger in France, I resolved not to lay 
it aside, until 1 arrived in Switzerland. At Lyons, 
I obtained from some protestant clergymen, with 
whom I became acquainted, letters of introduction 
to many of the Swiss clergy. Having spent a few 
days in that city, I departed for Geneva— the cradle 
of continental protestantism, and the seat of the arts, 
and sciences. My letters of introduction were then 
of use to me. Through them, I soon made the ac- 
quaintance of the greater part of the Geneva clergy ; 
and among others, of Messieurs Malan and Chene- 
viere. To the latter more especially, I am indebted 
for many favours. He is professor of Theology in 
the University of Geneva ; and though a Socinian 
in his religious opinions, yet a truly just and upright 
man. 

Monsieur Cheneviere was the only true and sin- 
cere friend, that I met with at Geneva. His views 
on religious matters I do not, by any means approve 



328 SIX YEARS IN THE 

at this time^ though, when at Geneva, I entered in- 
to them with the greatest ardour ; not that I liked 
Socinianism for its own sake, but rather, because it 
approached nearer to my own system of natural re- 
ligion, into which I had been hurled through dis- 
gust of popish superstitions. Were we to judge of 
the truth or falsehood of a religion from the lives of 
its professors, Socinianism, judging it from the lives 
of some of its professors at Geneva, and more espe- 
ciall}^ from the life of Cheneviere, would befoutid a 
much safer religion, and much more in accordance 
with the Gospel precepts, than a truly evangelical 
Christianity, when judged by the lives of some of 
those, who, making themselves champions for the 
truth, ''as it is in Jesus,'^ take very little care to 
practise any of the doctrines, and precepts of Jesus. 
However that may be, one thing I am convinced of, 
is this, '^ that if the Divinity of the Founder of 
Christianity is not an essential article of a Christian's 
belief ; neither then is Christianity itself necessary 
to his salvation. ^^ If Christ be not God — a title he 
has given to himself; he must then be a liar, and 
the greatest monster that ever appeared in this 
world ! If those misguided men, who deny the 
Divinity of the Saviour, were but for one moment 
to reflect upon the awful consequences deducible 
from that denial, they would certainly feel as much 
shocked, as I myself have felt whilst writing the 
foregoing sentence ; and humbly cry out with 
Thomas " My Lord and My God,^^ Let us hope, 
however, that the fault of the greater number of 
those, who deny the divinity of Christ, is to be at- 
tributed more to the understanding, than to the vvill, 
and that He, whose power and divinity they deny, 
will in his own good time, convince them of both 
by changing their hearts, and thereby make them 
fit for the reception of so great a truth — a truth of 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 329 

such essential importance, that it has been justly 
called "the foundation stone, on which are built the 
other truths of the Christian religion.'^ 

I have been led into the foregoing digression by 
the name of Mr. Cheneviere, a man, from whom I 
have received much kindness, and whom I esteem 
for his moral virtues, though I cannot esteem him 
for the more important virtues, which religion can 
produce. I am very sure, however, that he was a 
Socinian, and remained so, not through any worldly 
motive, but because he was fully convinced of the 
truth of that religion. To sum up his character in 
a few words, it may be truly said of him "that as a 
natural-minded man, he was little below an angel ; 
but as a theoretical Christian, alas ! he was on the 
road to destruction.'^ If, however, his natural dis- 
position unassisted by divine illumination, could 
lead him to be a philanthropist ; what would he not 
become, were the clouds, in which his mind was en- 
veloped, dissipated, and he could be brought to see 
and acknovvledge the atoning love of a Divine Sa- 
viour } 

I had not been many days at Geneva, before 1 di- 
vested myself of the mark of the " beast,^^ or of 
one of them, at least ; — I mean, the monkish habit, 
which I had the gratification of burning. This was 
the last remnant of popery, of which I was in pos- 
session, having consigned to the deep some time be- 
fore, whilst on the passage to Marseilles, beads, 
scapulars, and suchlike trumpery. Mons. Chene- 
viere invited me to make his house, my home, until^ 
he could have an opportunity of procuring me a 
situation, by which I could earn a subsistence. I 
became one of his family, and was treated by every 
individual member of it, with the greatest attention, 
and kindness. I shall, indeed, ever retain a grate- 
ful remembrance of Madame Cheneviere, and her 

28* 



330 SIX TEARS IN THE 

children, and must always feel pleasure, when I re- 
call to mind, the happy, delicious moments, I spent 
in the society of this am.iable family. I have not the 
least doubt, but Mons. Cheneviere would have 
placed me, if 1 had remained under his pro- 
tection, and in his house, in the way of becoming 
independent, and of making reparation for the sacri- 
fice I had made, in quitting the profession, on which 
my future advancement in life wholly depended. 
His influence was very great, not only at Geneva, 
but also in other parts of Switzerland ; indeed in ev- 
ery place, where he was known, defeience was paid 
to his opinion, and letters. He could then very ea- 
sily have procured me employment, had I not been 
induced by the persuasions of self-interested and 
designing men to quit his hospitable roof, and plunge 
myself headlong into the misery, in which 1 have 
lived during the last two years. How this came 
about will need some explanation. 

Geneva is very much freqtiented by English tra- 
vellers, especially by those who either really, or af- 
fectedly, (the latter, of course, being the greater 
number,) are religiousl}' inclined. When cloyed by 
the round of dissipation in which they are accustom- 
ed to live in the principal Italian cities, these birds 
of passage, (as the Italians call them,) betake them- 
selves to Switzerland, and not knowing what else 
to do with themselves, become as beastly religious, 
as they were before beastly licentious. As it was 
the fashion, whilst in Italy, to be a connoisseur in 
paintings^ statues, mosaics^ &c. so, the fashion, 
whilst at Geneva, is changed into that of being a 
violent anti-papist^ and a critic on popish super- 
stitions. These people aie, for the most part, with- 
out any religion whatever. Their observations on 
the manners and customs of the Italians, are most 
ridiculous, and their strictures on popery, which 



MONASTERIES OF ITALT^ &C. 331 

they do not understand,* most diverting. They en- 
deavour to speak of the manners, and customs, oi' a 
people whose language they do not understand. 
Those that have acquired some smattering of it, pro- 
nounce it so barbarously, that the Italians can hard- 
ly keep their countenances, whilst listening to the 
muiilalion of their language. 1 have never yet met 
with an Englishman who could speak, even tolera- 
bly well, any of the continental languages.! 

To this flock of wild geese, which I have been 
describing, there is generally attached a charlatan, 
who calls himself '^ a clergyman of the church of 

* I remember to have seen the following in a book of travels, 
written by a Cockney, who made the '''-grand tour :" " The 
churches, (at Rome,) are, for the most part, dedicated to the Vir- 
gin. She is styled, in the inscription over the church doors* 
" equal to God the Father" — in Latin " Deiparas Virgini." What 
a blunder I Had not the Cockney some friend, who could inform 
him, that " Deiparae" is compounded of Deus^ 3.nd pario — to bring 
forth, and not from Deus and par — equal. Popery is bad enough* 
without charging to her account the errors of those who do not un- 
derstand her, and yet endeavour to describe and criticise her. 

t The curious mistakes they make whilst endeavouring to trans- 
late their English commands into Italian — pure Italian, to be sure 
—are most laughable. I shall mention one of them. An English , 
traveller, who had tumbled by the mere force of gravity from the 
Alps, (Brooks says so, not I,) found himself, (by what means, he 
hardly knew himself,) housed in one of the hotels at Pisa. Think- 
ing it too much trouble to halloo to the servant, when he wanted 
any thing, he directed, that a small bell should be brought into his 
room. Now, campanella^ means in Italian, a small bell; campa- 
nile, means, on the other hand, a belfry. Our Englishman, mis- 
taking one word for the other, ordered, that a " camjMuile^^ should 
be brought to him. The servant, nearly bursting his sides with 
laughter, took him to the window, and pointing to the belfry of 
the cathedral, asked him "if that ^^ campanile^'' would do for him; 
because then, he would be obliged to pay for pulling it down, and 
transporting it into the room." 



332 SIX YEARS IN THE 

England/' He is, for the most part, the youngest 
son of some aristocratic English family. Being un- 
fit for any thing else, he is thrust, through the in- 
terest of his family, into the church, as the only pro- 
fession wherein his want of qualifications could pass 
unnoticed. This, very probably, is the reason, that 
the church of England, so pure, and so evangelical- 
ly Christian, in her doctrines, approaches so very 
near to popery in her practices, and that she has ac- 
quired for herself the name of ''the eldest daughter 
of the scarlet whore. '^ 

The man who called himself "English chaplain," 
at Geneva, whilst I resided in that city, was not, 
however, either the son of a nobleman, or even of 
a private gentleman: he was neither more, nor less, 
than a soi-disant converted Jew, who sold his reli- 
gion to some of the bishops of the church of Eng- 
land, for more than the small share of it he pos- 
sessed, w^as worth — for two hundred pounds ster- 
ling, a wife^ and ordination. His name is M — s, 
the worthy descendant of a Polish Jew, who estab- 
lished himself in London, in the trade of an old 
clothes-seller, a few years before his scape-grace son 
thought proper to embrace Christianity. The son, 
after renouncing — what? not the Jewish religion 
surely; — well, after saying " I am a Christian,'' im- 
mediately obtained the *' siller ^''^ and the wife; who, 
by the way, seems to have been created expressly 
for him; so much is she like him in littleness of 
mind, and deformity of body and soul. Ordination 
was not received, however, with the same facility. 
The bishops scrupled to ordain so illiterate a man. 
Having, however, got him instructed, unde, unde, 
in some way or another, and being ashamed to 
break their promise to him, they, at length, ordain 
ed him, also. Being unable to obtain a curacy, or 
parish in England, he set out for Geneva, and en- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 333 

deavoLired to procure a subsistence for himself, and 
hh " dulce bene,'^^ by preaching a religion he did 
not understand, to the deistical English travellers, 
who winter, or summer, or — what you please^ in 
that city. These, however, soon grew tiied of his 
ignorance, which was only surpassed by his impu- 
dence, and he was obliged to pack up his alls, — his 
wife and child — and return back to England. He 
spent nearly six months, after his return from Swit- 
zerland, in a state of starvation, through the streets 

of J^ondon, till Lord W , compassionating his 

miserable condition, gave him a parish in Ireland, 
on his estate, near Arklow. He now resides at the 
latter place, metamorphosed, by the magical hand 
of the basest of Irish noblemen, from a Jewish vaga- 
bond into a preacher of the Gospel to the poor Irish. 
What a preacher ! How, indeed, must the Irish love 
protestantism, when they have such a sample of its 
ministers before their eyes, as this curious com- 
pound of roguery, deceit, and ignorance presents ! 
This cursed Jew now actually receives in tithes 
more than two thousand dollars annually from a 
starving population. He is known in Arklow, and 
its neighbourhood, as a most hard-hearted, avarici- 
ous, unfeeling wretch — a sure sign, that when he 
pronounced the words "I am a Christian,'^ he had 
forgotten to throw off his Jewish propensities. I am 
confident, that his presence in Ireland is worth 
more than £2000 sterling, to the popish priests, 
who can point him out to their flock, as an example 
of the effects of protestantism. If there were a dozen 
— and thank God there are not half that number — 
of such protestant clergymen in Ireland, the priests 
would sing a "Te Deum,^^and thank the land-owners, 
and tithe-owners, and middle-men, &:c. for sending 
among them so many foreign vagabonds, by whose 
endeavours they might be assisted in imposing oa 



334 SIX YEARS IN THE 

the people; for the pernicious example of Rabbi 
M Sjand his coadjutors, would have as much ef- 
fect in increasing the priests' power over the peo- 
ple, as the endeavours of the priests themselves. 

I have entered into a longer description of this 
Judaizing protestant clergyman than I at first in- 
tended. I know, that what I have written of him is 
litisrally the truth. His early life I learned at Ge- 
neva from those who knew him well ; and his pres- 
ent condition, I know from personal observation^ 
made during a residence of some time, near his par- 
ish. Let not, however, any one imagine, that I have 
brought his name forward in this book, in order to 
injure him in the public estimation. This book 
will never be seen, by those, whose duty it would 
be to remove so great a disgrace from the respecta- 
ble body of Irish clergy, and therefore it cannot be 
through any motive of that kind, that I make men- 
tion of him. It might, perhaps, be suspected, that 
I do it, in order to vent my spleen against one, who 
treated me unkindly ; and that 1 magnify his faults, 
and pass over his virtues, in order to make his char- 
acter more detestable. I can only say, in answer, 
that were I desirous of venting my spleen, I would 
have taken some other method of doing so, besides 
contaminating the pages of this work by the intro- 
duction of private quarrels. As to my magnifying 
his faults, there is no occasion for me to take that 
trouble ; for they are already as conspicuous, as the 
most powerful lens could possibly make them. His 
virtues, I must confess, I have never been able to 
discover ; and his nearest friends, however lynx-eyed 
they might be in looking for them, must, I believe, 
confesLs the same. I have simply brought him for- 
ward, as being the person, by whose perfidy, 1 have 
been precipitated into the greatest difficulties, and 
who endeavoured to make me the tool, by which 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 335 

he might acquire a name for himself — the name of 
having converted a popish priest. 

I was residing in the family of Mons. Cheneviere, 
when my evil stars brought me acquainted with 

M and another English clergyman who was at 

that time vegetating at Geneva. The latter's name 

is D n. He was, when I knew^ him, travelling 

tutor (a kind of upper vnlet-de-chambre) to Lord 
.Tocelyn, son to the Earl of Roden, and nephew to 
the bishop of Clogher, the same with him who dis- 
graced h\mse\( and the church, not many years ago. 

D n made himself nearly as conspicuous as 

M — s in seducing me. This ''par nobile fra- 
triim^^ this pair of clerical miscreants so work- 
ed on my mind by their deceitful promises, 
that I at last, in an evil hour, consented to withdraw 
from the protection of my kind friend Cheneviere, 
and commit myself friendless, and destitute to an 
unfeeling world. They promised, that they would 
obtain for me admission into the church of England, 
as one of her ministers, and persuaded me to go to 
London, where they would introduce me by letter 
to the Refor<Tiation Society. I consented, and — was 
undone. 

Upon my arrival in London, nearly pennyless, I 
endeavoured to earn a subsistence by teaching. The 
only person, who took the least notice of me, 
was Lieutenant R — d, who was at that time, secre- 
tary to the Reformation Society. So far from being 
able to obtain employment as a clergyman, I could 
not obtain it even as a schoolmaster. Lieutenant 
R — d told me plainly, that I had been deceived, and 

that neither D n, nor M s had the power, 

nor the interest, nor indeed the will of keeping 
their promises to me. It was evident, that all they 
wanted was the name of having made a convert, 



336 SIX TEARS IN THE 

quite resijardless, what might be the future lot of 
that unfortunate convert. My religious opinions 
were decidedly Socinian. Of this I made no secret. 
Those^ w^ho wished to persuade me that Christ was 
God made use of arguments, which only strength- 
ened me in my own opinion. Their arguments 
were persecution. Indeed, I found as much bigotry, 
and uncharitableness in the greater part of the clergy- 
men of the church of England, with whom I became 
acquainted, as I ever had found in a monk-house. 
Nor is this any wonder. The church established " by 
law," in England is, in her practices, though not in 
her doctrines^ but very little removed from popery. 
Her clergy are, for the most part, distinguished for 
a persecuting spirit against those, who dissent from 
her institutions and doctrines. Many of tiie En- 
glish clergy do not even understand the spirit of 
their church, and not few might be found, who 
never read the thirty-nine articles, which they 
swear to, before their ordination. They embraced 
the ecclesiastical state as a profession, and because 
some rich livings were in the gift of their families 
and friends. What popery is in Italy, the national 
church is in England ; with this sole difference, 
that the former is corrupt both in doctrine and prac- 
tice : the latter in practice only, 

I spent five months in London, in a most misera- 
ble condition. The letters, which 1 sent to my false 
friends at Geneva, were never answered. D — n, and 
M — s had obtained their ends. I had served their 
purpose?; I was converted, and converted through 
their means, (so at least, they lyingly reported) and 
they required nothing more. Lieut. Rhind wrote 
to D — n for my ecclesiastical papers, which I had en- 
trusted to his care, whilst at Geneva. His answer 
was, '^ that he had not them," thus adding a breach 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &:C. 337 

of trust to his perfidious, and ungentlemanly con- 
duel.* Finding my situation no longer supportable, 
and being ashamed to seek an asykim from my fami- 
ly in Ireland, after the step I bad taken, I resolved 
to return to the continent again, and endeavour to 
find that subsistence among foreigners, which was 
denied me in England, on account of the bigotry, 
and bad faith of those, who call themselves " friends 
of the Gospel.^' The following two years, I spent 
partly in France, and partly in the islands of the 
Mediterranean under British government, and at 
Smyrna, Asia Minor. 

I have been thus diffuse in relating the man- 
ner of my escape from monkery, and the treat- 
ment I received from cold-hearted, selfish men, 
who call themselves protestants, in order that 
the reader might be able to form a judgment of the 
difficulties throw^n in the way of those, who desert 
from the ranks of popery. There are, to my certain 
knowledge, hundreds of popish priests in England, 
and Ireland, who would leave popery to morrow, if 
they had the means of subsisting without it. Whilst 
English protestants are so lukewarm and selfish, 
there is very little probability that they will leave 
the ease and affluence of their professions for the pov- 
erty and hardships, they are most likely to undergo 
as protestants. 

* If the man known in England by the name of the Rev. H. 
Dalton, tithe-owner of Wolverhamton, should by any chance, cast 
his eyes upon this page, let him be assured, that the author of this 
book will send a voice across the Atlantic, if he does not, in a short 
time, deliver up to — he knows, to whom — the papers, which were 
entrusted to him at Geneva, and which he had the baseness to deny 
having received. A word to the wise) and if that Rev. gentleman 
be as wise, as he is thought by some, he will immediately comply 
with this lawful request. 
29 



335 SIX TEARS IN THE 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

State of Religion in Malta — Number of Popish priests — Their Ig- 
norance — Ignorance of the people — Bishop Caruana — Power of 
the pope in Malta — Anecdote of a Maltese Attorney — Doctor 
Naudi — Maltese medical college — Naudi's treachery — He is 
found out by an English missionary — Maltese monks — Num- 
ber of monasteries in Malta — Paulotists — Dominicans — Carme- 
lites — Ignorance of the Maltese monks — Convent of Capuchins 
at Malta — Padre Pietro, the Capuchin Custode — Padre Calce- 
donio — Story of a child violated by him in Santa Maura — He is 
sent to the galleys — Remission of his sentence, through the influ- 
ence of General Rivarola — Esteemed as a saint by the Maltese. 

The how, the when, and the wherejore, I visited 
the Tsland of Malta, can be but little if indeed any, 
importance to the reader. Be it sufficient therefore 
to mention, that I established myself in that Island, 
not long after my escape from monastic slavery. I 
shall then, in this and the following chapter, endea- 
vour to give an account of the actual state of popery, 
and of the popish priesthood, with which it is pestered. 
This account drawn from personal observations made 
during the seven months I resided in the island j 
will not, I hope, be wholly void of interest. My 
means of acquiring information on this subject, were 
unlimited, for I had easy access to some of the prin- 
cipal Maltese families, and had an extensive ac- 
quaintance among the clergy. Its accuracy may be 
the more relied upon, because, at that time, worldly 
prudence, and the fear of persecution made me dis- 
semble my real belief in religious matters, and there- 
fore I could observe without any suspicion. The 
persecution which I so much feared came in the 
end and annoyed me not a little, so that I thought 
it prudent to leave the Island. My former profes- 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 339 

sion was discovered by a monk, who came from 
Rome to Malta on some business of his order, and 
who was one of my college companions. He soon 
recognized me, and readily acquainted Monsignor 
the Bishop of my real profession, who thought him- 
self justified in exciting a persecution against me, 
and of representing me as a heretic, and as one ex- 
communicated for having, without proper authority 
thrown ofTthe Franciscan habit. 

There are in the small island of Malta, and anoth- 
er island still smaller attached to it, which is called 
Gozo, more .than 500 priests, averaging on the 
whole, one priest to every 150 inhabitants. It 
may be supposed then, that people so well supplied 
with pastors, should be also well instructed in the 
doctrines of Christianity. Quite the contrary, how- 
ever, is the case, for very few, indeed not one in a 
hundred of this crowded population knows how to 
read and write, and as for understanding the leading 
points of Christianity, the greater number of the 
priests themselves do not understand farther of them 
than reciting a few prayers in a language, of which 
they are as ignorant as they are of every polite ac- 
complishment — 1 mean, of the Latin language — for 
there are not ten priests in the island, who can be 
said to perfectly understand it. How then could 
they teach their flock, what they do not understand 
themselves? unless indeed it is not necessary for a 
teacher to urnJerstand what he teaches. The people 
know very well how to mumble over in barbarous 
Latin (a hodge-podge, of Maltese, Italian and Latin, 
which is incomprehensible as well to the vscholar as 
to those that mutter it) Pater nosters and Ave 
Maria's before the images of the Virgin and other 
saints, to go and prostrate themselves to obtain re- 
mission of their sins at the feet of some clownish 
priest, to attend at the idolatrous ceremony of the 
mass, and throw themselves on their knees before a 



340 SIX YEARS IN THE 

consecrated wafer and worship it as their God ! If 
this be Christianity, I nnust confess, that they are 
excellent Christians ; and their pastors, faithful and 
Christian ministers ; for they take no small pains to 
teach the people to be conversant and skilled in 
things of this kind. But if these things, so far from 
being Christianity, can with more propriety be cal- 
led by their true name anti Christianity, what then 
must we think of a church, which thus leads so 
many immortal souls headlong into the gulf of er- 
ror ond perdition, by teaching for the doctrines of 
Christ, the doctrines of anti-Christ, and pointing out 
as the road to salvation, the road to perdition and 
death. 

Very few of this benighted people thus led astray 
by the teaching of those, who are set over them for 
guides, have any suspicion, for they are too ignorant, 
of the monstrous errors, which they are taught to re- 
gard as the Christian faith: they place infinite trust 
In their priests, and implicitly obey their every 
command. These, again, arc subservient to the bi- 
shop, who, in turn, depends upon the court of Rome; 
so that the pope may be said to have the w^hole gov- 
ernment of the ecclesiastical affairs of the island di- 
reetl}^ in his own hands. It must not be supposed, 
that every bishop, who governs the island of Malta 
in the name of the pope, is in reality sincerely at- 
tached to him or his religion: the contrary is very 
often the case. Caruana, the present bishop, is sup- 
posed b}^ a great many, to be a confirmed Deist, and 
to yield implicit obedience to the court of Rome, 
only through fear of being deposed, and of losing 
thereby his princely income. He well knows, that 
were he to act otherwise, English protection, if 
granted to him, w^ould not be sufficient to keep him 
in'his see, contrary to the endeavours and chicanery 
of the Roman court, which, in a short time, and for 
the trouble of issuing the sentence of suspension^ 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 341 

would have the entire clergy, with few exceptions, 
and with them the people on its side, as executioners 
of its mandate. The bishop therefore isobligedtokeep 
himself quiet, and show himself even zealous in en forc- 
ing bywords and example the doctrines of Rome,and 
in revetting more and more the chains, by which the 
people are kept in subjection to her soul-destroying 
superstitions. Some few Maltese there are, whose 
better judgments and more enlightened minds, would 
excite them to cast off the galling shackles of popery; 
but they fear the monstriim horrenduniy the people, 
and the persecution, which they may be sure to meet 
with, on its being known, that they had taken such 
a step. The prospects in life also of those, who de- 
pend for support on the emoluments flowing from 
their professions would be materially injured. If 
there be any superiority of mind, and feelings among 
this degraded people, degraded through the blighting 
influence of popery, this superiority must be looked 
for among the physicians, surgeons, advocates, attor- 
neys, and other professional men. But these, for the 
most part, depend for subsistence on their profession; 
if then they should decline in the public estimation, 
their practise in their professions would be material- 
ly injured. They, therefore, whatever be their real 
opinions, are obliged to conform themselves to the 
reigning superstitions, for they are well aware of 
the priests' power, in exciting the popular feelings, 
and of the consequence of their being proclaimed he- 
retics by these enemies of all true religion. 

One Maltese gentleman in particular — an attor- 
ney of great practice, with whom 1 was on terms of 
intimacy — upon having received some cause of un- 
easiness from the meddling of priests in his private 
concerns, exclaimed one day in my presence, whilst 
oh a visit to him; " that he hoped to see the day, 
that the last King would be strangled with the en- 

29^ 



342 SIX YEARS IN THE 

trails of the last priest." It may be supposed, that 
he had received some unusual provocation, before 
he could be excited to make use of such strong, and 
indeed, not very becoming language, which, by the 
way, he borrowed from the French revolutionists of 
'89. What his provocation, at that time, was, I am 
not aware, hut I know, that he suffered not a little in 
his character and practice through suspicions of he- 
terodoxy cast upon him by the popish priests; nor 
did he take much pains to prove false such suspi- 
cions, for, though in the transactions of business, and 
in his private character, he exhibited himself a strict- 
ly honest, and honourable man, yet he never, as far 
as I could learn, went to either mass, church, or meet- 
ing; ortoany place, appointed for divine worship. He 
had, however, a Deodati's bible in his possession, and 
was accustomed to read it frequently, for the beauty 
of the language, he said himself;) for the instruction, 
and consolation, which the divine word imparts, I 
w^as inclined to suspect, rather. — Be his motives for 
reading it what they may, I always was of opinion, 
that he was a zealous, though a hidden favourer of 
the Christianity, which it teaches, and an enemy of 
the corrupt Christianity of Rome, however he may 
restrain himself, through prudential motives, from 
manifesting that enmity. 

Another Maltese, a physician by the name oi Nan- 
di and professor in the medical college of Malta,* 

* Malta has also its medical college, instituted, Diis iratis^ for the 
destruction of the poor Levantines ; as from it are sent forth 
the host of ignorant quacks, with not even a superficial know- 
ledge of medicine or surgery, but who are nevertlieless diplo- 
matized, and graduated in this so called medical university and 
then scatter themselves through all Turkey, and Egypt, the harbin- 
gers of death and destruction to all, who submit to their unskilful 
treatment. Nothing can surpass this class of gentry in ignorance 
and roguery, but their presumption and avarice. The former carries 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 343 

had privately embraced the reformed religion, and 
seemed so sincere in his convictions of the errors of 
popery, and in his love forjthe doctrines of the Bible, 
that he was appointed by some English bible-soci- 
ety, its agent in Malta, and granted a yearly salary 
from the same in consideration of his trouble. He 
continued for more than two years in this connection 
with the society, and apparently labouring for it to 
the best of his abilities, so that the sum, which he 
received in payment of his trouble, seemed by the 
managers ver}^ profitably laid out; when it was dis- 
covered, that he had, almost from the beginning, en- 
tered into a private agreement with the superior 
clergy of Malta to betray the cause he had embarked 
in, and thwart, instead of advancing its exertions in 
the cause of Christ. It seems, that soon after his 
being appointed as an officer of the Bible-society, he 
had agreed with the bishop to act so in his relations 
with it, that his efforts would rather tend to the 
advancement of popery, than to the advantage of the 
bible-cause. To secure himself against the tongues 
of his countrymen, who would certainly judge, from 
his outward activity in distributing bibles, that he 
was an active agent in the cause of protestantism, he 
obtained a written document from Monsig. the bi- 
shop, by exhibiting which, he could without difficul- 
ty stop the mouths of all, who may have taken the 
liberty to upbraid him for what they termed, his apos- 
tacy. He also made a public profession of the Ca- 
tholic faith in the church of St. Giovanni, and sub- 

them through thick and thin with the more honest and less cun- 
ning, though perhaps more enUghtened Turks ; the latter ex- 
cites them to amass money, no matter how, and by what fraudu- 
lent contrivances; with which they return after a few years, (if not 
cut off before then by the plague,) to their rocky home, to spend it 
and laugh at the duped Turks. 



344 SIX YEARS IN THE 

scribed a paper, in which were contained the various 
articles of that faith, and more especially such as are 
protested against by Protestants. This paper, signed 
by his hand, was lodged in the archives of the said 
church, to be brought forward, when required. All 
this time, he was apparently an active agent of the 
Bible-society, and conversant with the missionaries 
of Malta: he was the first, in their private meetings, 
to speak against the superstitions of popery, and the 
scandalous lives of its ministers, and to encourage 
them in their endeavours to crush the monster. 
Every thing that happened in those private meet- 
ings was faithfully transmitted by him to the bish- 
op, who could thus better take measures for thwart- 
ing them. This imposition at last reached the know- 
ledge of an English missionary, a longtime resident 
on the island, and he thought it his duty to search 
farther into it. Through an acquaintance, which he 
formed with one of the Canons of St. Giovanni, he 
obtained a copy, taken with his own hand, I believe, 
of the articles of faith signed by the M. D; and des- 
patched it to England to be laid before the society, 
by which the former was employed; accompanying 
it with a letter from himself. What was the issue of 
the inquiry, or how the agent endeavoured to excul- 
pate himself with the society, or whether he attempt- 
ed any thing like an exculpation, I am not able to 
say, as I departed from Malta before any thing far- 
ther was known on the subject. 

The circumstances just related, I have from the 
lips of the missionary, who discovered the cheat, and 
who indeed, on other occasions, as^well as this, has 
shown himself faithful to the trust reposed in him 
by the society under which he labours, and by which 
he is supported. His zeal in the cause of Christ, 
and his attempts to expose popery have made him 
many enemies in the island: indeed I have never yet 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &:C. 345 

heard a Maltese speak well of him, which in itself 
ought to be a suflScient proofof hiseourage and fidelity 
in the cause in which he is engaged; for the Maltese 
pursue with unremitting rancour all who attempt to 
serve them by imparting the unadulterated truths of 
Christianity. In the hypocritical physician, we have 
an example of a man dead to all sense of honour and 
religion, who for the sake of filthy gain, throws aside 
the character of a gentleman, to which his profession 
and education entitle him, and submits to act the 
spy and cheat; to act the part of the serpent in the 
bosom of those, who imprudently entrusted the ma- 
nagement of their affairs to his hands. It would be 
hard to find any other than a Maltese, one, too, 
bigoted ly attached to the doctrines of popery, who 
would act so base a part. He proved himself indeed, 
a true papist, by his league with the main-spring 
of popish deception in the island — the bishop, 
who very probably had part of the plunder; for the 
pay, received from the Bible-society can be called 
by no other name. 

Malta, besides the herd of secular priests, a sketch 
of whose lives and manners has been attempted in 
the foregoing, is also blessed with from ten to twelve 
convents of lazy monks. The seed of these prolific 
propagators of error had been imported by the 
knights, on first gaining possession of the island, in 
the shape of a few Franciscan and Dominican 
friars carried about by the knights in the character 
of chaplains to the order. These soon perceived, 
that Malta w^ould be a good place for estab- 
lishing resting places for their brother drones, 
and accordingly, under the protecting wings 
of the knights, they set about establishing con- 
vents for their respective orders. These con- 
vents were at first peopled or rather monked from 
the neighbouring island of Sicily — an island as fa- 



346 SIX YEARS IN THE 

mous in modern times for its starving population, 
and its inexhaustible store of this kind of cattle — 
from the lordly and proud Benedictine down to the 
self-called humble Paulotist^ — as it was anciently 
for the wealth of its inhabitants, and the production 
of warriors, poets and philosophers. The Maltese 
themselves learned after a little time the happiness of 
monkery and of living in idleness for the " love of 
GodV Novitiates were then immediately established, 
and young men presented themselves for admission 
into the order: and thus was monkery provided with a 
never failing source for replacing those, whom death 
may have freed the world of ; or whom their own 
intemperance and gormandizing may have carried 
to an early grave. Other orders besides the two 
mentioned above, soon obtained a footing on the 
island, and brought with them the superstitions pe- 
culiar to their ditlerent institutes. The Dominicans 
had already established the rosary of the Virgin 
Mar}^, which they feign to have been instituted at the 
request of the queen of heaven herself who had ap- 
peared to their founder, St. Dominickt, and had a 
confab with him on that subject. The Franciscans 

* Monks of the order of St. Francis de Paula, commonly called 
"mimms" a name they assumed through humility, and rivalry of 
those ot St. Francis of Assisi, who called themselves " minor 
friars.^* A show of humility was the fashion in those days. 

t Of all the saints in the popish calendar, this man showed him- 
self, whilst alive, the most cruel, and blood-thirsty. There are, certain- 
ly many others enrolled by popes in the catalogue of saints, whose only 
merit consisted in the quantity of blood *vhich they caused to be shed, 
while propagating- the popish doctrines. If, however, cruelty and 
hard-heartedness be quahfications essential to a saint, no saint ever 
canonized deserved that honour better than Dominick, both for his 
own zeal in burning heretics, and for the establishment of the in- 
^juisition, the care of which, like a good father, he left to his no 
way degenerate children. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 347 

had also a care to establish some superstition, institu- 
ted through the agency of their Francis ; in which 
they were assisted by other branches of the Francis- 
can order, afterward established, by the Capuchins 
and Reformed Cordeliers, or Zoccolonti.diS the Italians 
call them. Possessed of this troop of impostors, which 
was afterward strengthened by the additionof the pri- 
mitive Carmelites* so called, and the Teresian Car- 
melites^'^ called Teresians, the island of Malta soon 
bid fair to be distinguished among the other Islands of 
the Mediterranean, as well for the arms of its warlike 
owners — the knights, as for the protection it afford- 
ed to these sowers of false religion, by whom every 
popish doctrine was established in its most disgust- 
ing form; such as saint worship, relic worship, pro- 
cessions, and all the other ceremonies, and rites, 
with which the pope and his myrmidons have bas- 
tardized the legitimate doctrines of Christ. 

Having had intimate acquaintance with the 
greater part of the members composing the con- 
vents, and having observed closely their man- 
ners and customs, which indeed, are in many 
respects different from those of their brethren on 
the continent of Europe, I have come to the conclu- 
sion, that thejfe are less enlightened, taken in a body, 
though more bigoted and more sincere in their at- 
tachment to the errors of the church of Rome, than 
the latter. The stock of information which they 
possess is very trifling, never exceeding with very 

* Carmelites take their name from Mount Carmel, where they 
are said to have been first instituted by Elias. They are also cal- 
led the order of the Scapular^ from a square piece of cloth, which 
they carry in their habit, on which is worked the image of the 
Virgin Mary, whom they worship and honor more than they do 
her Son. The Teresians are a reformed branch of this order, in- 
stituted by Teresa, a Spanish mad-woman, of whom many absurd 
and lying wonders are related. She was on a par in fanaticism 
with the more modern Johanna Southnote. 



348 SIX YEARS IN THE 

few exceptions, a slight knowledge of Latin, and a 
few useless distinctions in dogmatical Theology, 
so metaphysical, and nonsensical, that they learn 
them, as parrots, hy rote ; and he is thought the most 
learned theologian, who can quote from the Angelic 
Doctor, Thomas d'Aquinas, or from the Seraphic 
Doctor, Bonaventure,the greater number of sentences, 
which, so far from understanding the meaning of, 
he often does not understand the literal translation 
of the Latin words, in which they are written. 

The Capuchins have a very fine, indeed a splendid 
convent, outside the walls of Valetta, though not out- 
side the outvvard fortifications of the city. The place 
in wliich it is built is called i^/or?Y/;i«; for what reason, 
I am ignorant, unless it be named so in honor of some 
Grand Master, or some other person connected with 
the knights of St. John. In this convent, though with- 
out lands or any fixed income, there are neverthe- 
less maintained in splendour and luxury more than 
forty dronish monks, who, in return for the support 
thus liberally bestowed upon them by an ignorant 
population, endeavour to corrupt their minds as 
much as possible with the superstitions of false re- 
ligion, and turn them away from the only Mediator 
between God and man. The rosary otithe Madonna, 
the worship of St. Francis, the eflBcacy of indulgen- 
ces, and all the other novelties, which popery has 
ingrafted on the pure stock of Christianity and sub- 
stituted for the worship of Christ, are preached by 
them with great zeal, and with more effect too, than 
flow from the preaching of the other orders ; be- 
cause the Capuchins are better respected and more 
esteemed than the latter, by reason of a more impos- 
ing exterior, and consequently these pernicious doc- 
trines come with more weight and make a greater 
impression upon the hearers, when preached by them, 
than they possibly could, when preached by those 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 349 

of a less imposing outside, or hy those, who take 
less care to conciliate the aflections of the people, as 
having a fixed income of their own, they are less 
dependent upon ihem. The convent of the Floria- 
na is the head convent of the Capuchin order in 
Malta, and to it are subject two other convents of 
the same order ; one at Citta Vittoriosa, and the 
other in the small island of Gozo. The Padre 
Custode — the name which the superior goes by — 
resides at the head convent, and to his immediate 
jurisdiction, independent of the bishop, are subject 
the whole three. The General of the order, there- 
fore, at Rome has the real government of these 
convents in his hands; for the Padre Custode can 
do nothing but what is commanded by the former. 
The same may be said of the government of the oth- 
er orders, the local superiors of which are totallv in- 
dependent of the bishop of Malta, and hold their 
offices direct from their respective Generals at 
Rome. In this vvay, is the influence of Rome 
over the minds and morals of the people maintain- 
ed, not only in Malta, but in every country where 
her religion has gained ground. 

The present custode of the Capuchins of Malta 
seems to have been chosen to that office for no other 
reason than his profound ignorance, for truly, he is 
the most ignorant of the ignorant community which 
he governs. It would seem that ignorance is meri- 
torious among them; otherwise I cannot imagine 
what influenced those, upon w^hose votes the elec- 
tion depended, to think upon, not to say, elect, so 
asinine a superior. Padre Pietro, (for that is his 
name,) is so glaringly divested of every qualifica- 
tion for which man gains ascendancy over his fel- 
low, that, laying aside his superstition and bigotry 
— the never-failing attendants of ignorance — he 
seems to be by many degrees inferior in his mental 
30 



350 SIX YEARS IN THE 

capacities to the illiterate islanders, by whom he is 
looked up to with a degree of veneration. He had 
been, for many years, absent from the island as a 
missionary — what a missionary ! — in some of the 
uncultivated regions of Africa, where the inhabitants 
speak a language bordering on the paiua, spoken 
in Malta. The knowledge of this jargon, which he 
learned from his cradle, was the only qualification 
he possessed for a missionary, and for this he was 
sent by the Propaganda, at Rome, to carry the little 
he knew of popery, (for he is absolutely too igno- 
rant to know much about it,) to the benighted Afri- 
cans. On his return he gained consequence among 
his countrymen, for having been a missionary, anti 
among his brother monks, for having amassed mo- 
ney, filched from the pockets of those who were so 
unfortunate as to come under the influence of his 
priest-craft. With this money, it is said, he bought 
the votes of the other monks, and theieby ob- 
tained the office of custode, to the rejection of 
men who were comparatively qualified for such an 
office. One of those rejected to make room for 
him — a certain Padre Diomede — was really n su- 
perior man for his station, and had his lot been cast 
in any other sphere of life than that of a monk's, 
he would have been a useful member of society: as 
it was, he had nothiujEi; of the monk about him but 
the habit. He died soon after his election was nul- 
lified, some say of a broken-heart, brought on by 
the persecution of the other monks, by whom he 
was hated for being superior to themselves in every 
thing which can render one man superior to another. 
I have been thus diffuse on the character of this 
worthless monk, not that 1 supposed him worth the 
trouble of bringing his name before the public, but 
because, taking him on account of the superior of- 
fice he holds, as a criterion, Jucigmeni might be form- 
ed of the other Capuchins, w^ho are blessed by his 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 351 

government. If, then, such is the head, what must the 
other members be? And what must we think of the 
venality and meannessoftheother monks, who though 
there are among them some men of superior qualifica- 
tions, i. e. comparatively so, ior " Beati monoculiin 
terra csecornm^^^ (^^ppy are the one-eyed in the 
country of the blind) — yet chose rather,either through 
envy or bribery, to elect for superior this man, very 
little snperiorto the brute creation in intellect, and no- 
nothing at all, to the priests of Juggernaut in religion, 
if, indeed, the superiority does not rest with the latter. 
There is also living at the convent of the Flo- 
riana another monk, who has rendered himself con- 
spicuous, though in a different way from the former; 
for as Padre Pietro is remarkable for his ignorance, 
his bigotry, and his rank of superior, so also is Pa- 
dre Calcedonio, whom we are about to introduce 
to the reader's acquaintance, equally remarkable for 
his crimes and scandalous life. If any one of those, 
into whose hands this book falls, has ever been 
in the island of Malta, he cannot but have observed, 
walking through Strada Reale^ a Capuchin monk, 
of a mortified exterior, tall in stature, and of a pro- 
minent belly, having his eyes armed with a pair of 
spectacles, for he pretends to be near-sighted. If he 
had observed him, and then asked the smallest child 
of Malta "Who is that Padre?'' the child, in won- 
der at his not knowing what every one knows, will 
exclaim " Oh ! that is Padre Calcedonio, the Ca- 
puchin saint; and you must be a stranger in Malta 
not to know him." Of this Padre Calcedonio, the 
Capuchin saint, the history may not be entirely un- 
interesting to the reader, for whose gratification it is 
here inserted. It is no secret in Malta, not even to 
the very persons who esteem the subject of it a 
saint; so much easier is it to pass for a saint than for 
an honest and virtuous man, and so inclined is a 



352 8IX YEARS IN THE 

priest-ridden people to pass over the defects, and 
crimes, of its spiritual teachers. 

This Padre Calcedonio was sent, about twelve 
years ago, by the superior of the Capuchins of Mal- 
ta, to the island of Santa Maura, one of the Ionian 
islands, in the capacity of chaplain to the Sicilian, 
and Corsican soldiers, in the English service, by 
whom the garrison w\as manned. On these troops 
being disbanded, he continued in the same relation 
to the Sicilian and Maltese civilians, who consider- 
ed that island a good place for establishing manufac- 
tories, and exercising their various professions. His 
insinuating manners, and sanctimonious exterior, 
gained him the aflections of these people, and he 
grew into great repute among them. Being the only 
Roman Catholic priest on the island; for the Greek 
church is that followed by the natives, he was 
esteemed the more, as the people following the 
Latin church would feel severely the want of a 
minister of their own persuasion, if he should be 
withdrawn, or should take ofl'ence at their treatment, 
and return to his convent at Malta. He was on this 
account liberally supported by them, and almost 
idolized: indeed, his general conduct was irrepre- 
hensible; so much so, that when a Greek woman 
accused him of attempting the seduction of her 
daughter, who washed for him, little was wanting, 
that she was not torn asunder by the infuriated 
Latins, who considered her charge as a calumny in- 
vented by the Greek priests to cast odium on the 
Latin church, by accusing its minister of inconti- 
nency. The sequel, however, proved the justice of 
the woman's charge. Among the Latins, who lived 
on the island, there was a Sicilian mechanic, who, 
by industry, and attendance to his business, was 
acquiring an honest competency. He also had a 
little trade WMth his native island, Sicily, in sending 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 353 

some of the products of Santa Maura there, and re- 
ceiving, in return, clothes, cotton, stockings, &c. 
With this man. Padre Calcedonio had a very great 
intimacy; indeed it was shrewdly suspected, that 
the former was trafficking with the Padre's money, 
for to his other good qualifications, Padre Calce- 
donio added that of insatiable avarice, and as it 
would be unseemly for him, a missionary, to enter 
on commercial pursuits in his own name, to avoicj 
the tongues of the people, he commissioned his 
friend, the Sicilian, to act for him. Be this as it 
may, it is certain that a close intimacy existed be- 
tween them, and they were frequent visiters and 
guests at the houses of each other. 

The Padre had a neat little house expressly built 
for him close to the church, so that he had very 
little trouble to be always present, when his ministry 
was wanted. To this house the Sicilian and his 
family were accustomed to come on visits of ceremony, 
and spend their evenings in its owner's company. 
It happened one day, that the Sicilian sent one of 
his daughters, a child about twelve years of age, to 
the Padre's house, for something that the latter had 
promised to give hirn. She was received with the 
greatest kindness by the monk, and given some re- 
freshment of sweet cakes and wine, for he was well 
known for his attachm.ent to children, and was ac- 
customed to carry something sweet in his pocket to 
bestow upon them, when he visited at their parents' 
houses: it was not suspected, how^ever, that he could 
possibly harbour, for one moment, the diabolical 
designs which he manifested on the present occa- 
sion. Having made the child drink wine, nearly to 
intoxication, he took her in his arms, and conveyed 
her into his bed-room, and there satisfied his brutal 
passion. Had he foreseen the consequence of his 
crime, however, it is most probable that he would 

30* 



354 SIX YEARS IN THE 

not have hazarded the attempt. The child being of 
a tender age, bled profusely, and was heard crying 
bitterly, when the door was forced in, and my hero 
was discovered endeavouring to stop the bleeding, 
and stuffing the child's mouth with sweet cakes to 
hinder her from crying. A physician was sent for, 
and on examining the child, he immediately discov- 
ered that she had been violated, and expressed a doubt 
ofher recovery from the injury received. Whilst using 
the necessary means for stopping the blood, the poor 
child fainted, and it was believed by those present, 
(one of w^hom, a iNLdtese ship-master, of the name 
of Elul, who had just come to Santa Maura that 
very day, related the circum^ tances to me,) that she 
had expired. Our gallant Padre was immediately 
taken into custody, and well for himself that he was, 
because, had he not been protected by those who 
took him prisoner, he would not be alive to-day to 
act the saint through the streets of Malta, for the 
people, both Greek and Latin, would have torn him 
in twain. The poor child, the victim of his lust, 
after recovering from the swoon, gathered strength 
enough to be able to tell her parents what the 
wretch had done to her, and then sunk into her 
former stupor. Her life was despaired of for many 
weeks. The physician, after further examination, 
discovered that she had also been infected, by her 
ravisher, with a loathsome, unnameable disease — a 
sure sign that the Padre had not lived, hitherto, in 
that continency, for which his friends gave him 
credit; attributing to calumny the report of those 
who knew how he really lived, and especially the 
charge made against him by the Greek woman, 
which has already been spoken of. 

Being brought before the tribunal at Zante, whi- 
ther he was transferred for trial, he made no de- 
fence, but simply said, that he was innocent, and the 



I 



M0XASTERIE3 OF ITALY, &C. 355 

victim of a conspiracy entered into against him by 
the libertines of Santa Maura, for his destruction. 
His guilt was proved by the evidence of the child 
herself, and of the physician who examined her, and 
corroborated by the testimony of some of those, 
who, attracted by the child^s screams, broke open 
the door of his house, and found him endeavouring 
to stop the blood, as has been already related. He 
was sentenced by the court to four years hard la- 
bour, among the felons of Santa Maura, with a chain 
to his leg, as is the custom with those whom they 
call galliotti^ or those condemned to the galleys — 
a very lenient sentence, if his crime be taken into 
consideration; for, had he committed the same crime 
in England, he would certainly have been punished 
by death. He passed through lour months of his 
sentence, and was remarked by liis jailors for the 
most indecent, hardened conduct, during that time. 
He could be seen divested of his habit, and dressed 
as a convict, sweeping the streets of Santa Maura, 
till General Rivarola, a Corsican in the English ser- 
vice, used his influence with the government to ob- 
tain a remission of his sentence, not so much for the 
sake of the wretch himself, as for the Roman Catho- 
lic religion, of w^hich he was a minister, and to 
which the general was, and is, very much attached. 
Through his endeavours, he was discharged, and 
sent to Malta, where, in a short time, he again grew 
devout, and denied his guilt. His insinuating ad- 
dress, and plausible story, made many suppose that 
he w^as really the victim of injustice; and even his 
own superior was the first to write to the Capuchin 
general, in Rome, to have him re-instated in his 
former dignity, and restored to all the honours of 
the priesthood. He is now in Malta, practising his 
wonted impositions, and esteemed as a saint by the 
greater part of the people. Whether his bad sue- 



356 SIX YEARS IN THE 

cess at Santa Maura has cured him of his propensi- 
ties to certain failings, I am unable to judge, though 
it is very probable^ as he is not yet very old, that 
that discovery and exposure have only taught him 
more prudence, and not more continence, and that, 
when he chooses to indulge in his illicit gratifica- 
tions, he will take very good care not to indulge in 
them at the expense of a child of twelve years old. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

Continuation of remarks uiX)n the Popish Clergy of Malta — Their 
general incontinency — Father Butler, chaplain to the English 
forces at Malta — Meaning of the initials " D. D." affixed to his 

* name — His mania for making proselytes — Sample of Popish 
Conversions — A Protestant converted to Popery after death — 
Another sample of Father Butler's way of making Proselytes — 
Father Butler appears in a new character — Sir Dominick Ritual, 
and Sir Paul Text-book — Sir Dominick disgraces his Knight- 
hood — Concluding remarks on Popery in Malta. 

There are many other monks at Malta, both of 
the Capuchin and other orders, noted for crimes, 
not indeed of so deep a dye as the one just related, 
or such as would bring them under the cognizance 
of the secular arm, but yet quite unbecoming their 
profession, and their station in life. Incontinency 
is so common among them that transgressions of 
that nature are very little noticed; being passed over 
as every day's occurrences. This I wish to be 
understood of the priests of Malta, and those 
of the Ionian islands, alone; for in other coun- 
tries, except Ireland, things of that kind are 
less frequent, either because severely punished, 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 357 

when discovered, or perhaps, because less known, 
as the punishment inflicted upon those who are dis- 
covered, has the effect of making others more cau- 
tious in their actions, and when they do transgress, 
to transgress so privately that their transgressions 
never come to light 

Before 1 quit Malta, I must say a few words of 
the popish chaplain of the English forces, who de- 
serves a place among the other clergy of this island, 
if for nothing else, at least for his desire of bruta- 
lizing the minds of the unfortunate Irish soldiers, 
who fall under the influence of his ministry. 

This champion of popery, as he wishes to be 
thought, but unfortunately he wants both the talents 
and qualifications to be a successful one, is a native 
of some part of the county of Limerick, Ireland, 
His name is Butler. He studied at Rome, under 
the tuition of the worthy sons of St. Dominick, 
whose order he embraced. After nominally passing 
through a course of dogmatical and moral theology, 
he was sent to Malta in the character of chaplain to 
the English forces in that island. He lived for some 
time at the Dominican convent among his fellow- 
monks, till having incurred the displeasure of the 
Maltese superior, for something which was not con- 
sidered meet in his conduct — and it must have been 
something extraordinary to provoke the censure of 
a superior so latitudinarian in morality as the Domi- 
nican superior in Malta — he thought it prudent to 
supplicate the court of Rome for leave to separate 
from the order altogether, and live as a secular 
priest. This leave he obtained, though not without 
some difficulty; for monks are not over-fond of 
letting go the hold which they once have taken of 
the soul and body of another; and he now lives in 
private lodgings, at Malta, under the title of the 
Rev. T, Butler^ D, D. — the last two letters mean- 
ing, I presume, '^ drunken Dominican^^ for he 



35S SIX YEARS IN THE 

certainly deserves this title better than that of "doc- 
tor of divinity/^ as his very great ignorance shows 
him to have no claim whatever to the latter, where- 
_ as the tippling propensities, for which he is remark- 
able, (and for which, perhaps, he provoked the re- 
proof from his Dominican superior, that excited him 
to leave the order,) establish his right to the ybr/ner 
title."^ 

The ruling passion of this man, next to indulging 
in the use of intoxicating drinks, seems to be the 
converting, or rather perverting to the holy^ Ro 
man^ Catholic faith — ivhat high sounding adjec- 
tives to a substantive without a substance — the 
weak protestants attached to the army; those whose 
early education was neglected, and who are protes- 
tants only in name, without the slightest knowledge 
of the vital truths of protestantism. People of this 
class being dazzled with the gaudy trappings, and 
theatrical pageantry of popery, become an easy prey 
to the Jesuitical maneuvres of the Maltese priests^ 
and more especially, to the endeavours of Butler, 
who lets slip no opportunity of making proselytes, 
not so much through any love he holds to Christia- 
nity, for his scandalous life proclaims him an infi- 
del, as for the sake of gaining credit for himself by 
their conversion. He makes it his boast thai during 
the five years he has been chaplain in Malta, he 
had the honour of making six converts, partly men 
and partly women, and all of the lower class of 
English attached to the army. In illustration of the 

* Justice obliges me to add, that the Maltese clerg-y, among the 
i»ass of vices for which they are distinguished, have one good 
quality — that of detesting intoxication. I do not know one single 
individual among them who has ever been found guilty of drunken- 
ness, in public at least, or in private either, I am inclined to think. 
They refrain constitutionally from excess in intoxicating drinks. 
The appearance of Butler amongst them» and of another English 
— not Iruh — priest^ since dead, very much scandalized them* 



MONASTERIES OP ITALY, &€. 359 

manner in which this hero carries on his prosely- 
tizing system, the following example will not be 
thought wholly irrelevant. 

An English protestant, of the name of Muller, 
long time a resident in Malta, w^here he was em- 
ployed in the civil government, had from his in- 
fancy lived without God, and had nothing of the 
protestant about him, but the name, which he ac- 
quired from his parents being of that denomination. 
Being seized with a lingering illness, the bed of 
sickness brought forcibly to his mind his ill-spent 
life, and his neglect of God and religion, whilst in 
the enjoyment of health. Feeling his end fast ap- 
proaching, he sent for the protestant chaplain of the 
forces, a Mr. Misurier, and begged him to pray with 
him, and to lay open the hopes that a dying sinner 
can lay-hold on for obtaining happiness in the next 
world. Mr. Misurier found the unfortunate man 
totally ignorant of the first principles of Christiani- 
ty, and had to explain to him, as to an infant, every 
thing relating to the Christian religion; such as 
the love of God to mankind, who sent down his 
only-begotten Son, to be offered up as a sacri- 
fice to his offended Majesty for their sins, and 
other things of this kind. He had never read 
the Bible in his life, and ignorance made him 
doubt of all religions. With some difficulty, and 
great perseverance, (for his sickness was a long 
one, of more than three months' continuance,) 
Mesurier brought him to understand, and be- 
lieve in some of the most essential articles of reve- 
lation, and had him fully prepared and reconciled 
to depart from this world, trusting, and relying, on 
the merits of his Redeemer for salvation. In this 
state of mind, the man expired in the presence of 
Mr. Mesurier. The deceased h?.d a sisler living 
with him, who took care of nis household concerns. 



360 SIX YEARS IN THE 

(for he was never married;) one that was as ignorant 
as himself of vital religion. This, her io^norance, 
made her an easy prey to the Maltese priests; and 
she had, some time before her brother's illness, and 
without his knowledge, renounced the errors of 
protestantism, as the doctrines of the Bible are called 
by papists, in the hands of father Butler. 

During her brother's illness, she often attempted 
to have his permission to bring that priest to see him ; 
but lie always refused; being unwilling to have his 
last moments disturbed by the presence of one, who, 
he well knew, putting religion out of the question, 
showed no very good example to his iollovvers. The 
breath however had no sooner left his body, and the 
protestant clergyman departed, than away she runs 
for Father Butler, as it had already been agreed 
upon between them. The latter arrives at the dead 
man's late residence out of breath with haste, and 
pulling out his oil-horn, he sets about greasing the 
inanimate corpse, and going through the other cere- 
monies practised at the administration of extreme- 
unction. This being finished, the sister then began 
to w^ail, and externate her grief for her brother's 
death in a thousand ridiculous ways, chiefly for the 
sake of attracting the notice of the neighbors, who 
w^ere yet ignorant of his demise. Thes? assembled 
to condole with the^bereaved sister, and finding Fa- 
ther Butler in the house, and the body of the de- 
censed still wet from the oil, with which it was be- 
smeared, they immediately gave out, that Muller 
had died a Roman Catholic through the pious exer- 
tions of Father Butler, whose fame for having drawn 
his soul from the jaws of hell, to which the Maltese 
charitably consign all who die prqtestants, resounded 
in the mouths of all. The dead body was borne by 
the people in triumph to the nearest church, and 
placed on a bier, designed for that purpose in the 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &.C. 361 

middle of the aisle, where it was surrounded by wax- 
candles, while masses were celebrated for the repose 
of the soul, which formerly resided in it. 

This was a day of trium.ph to the priests of Malta. 
They little cared about the truth of the conversion, 
or the sanctity of the subject of it: all they wanted 
was the name, and that they acquired by the arts al- 
ready related. The Protestant chaplain, who knew, 
how affairs stood, and who saw the man expire in his 
own presence, told his friends, and those who would 
listen to him, the wdiole truth; but it would be no 
easy matter to make the Maltese think themselves 
deceived, or make them aware of the cheat practised 
on their credulity. Conscious of having done his 
duty, and the press being restricted by the policy of 
the government, Mesurier was obliged to let the 
thing drop, and thus pass over in silence as great a 
violation of truth and honesty as ever shone forth 
in the annals of popish fiction. The occurrence was 
published in some of the English papers, and sent 
out to Malta; but the Maltese loved to be deceived, 
and they, to this day, believe in the possibility of a 
protestant becoming reconciled to popery, even after 
death; for such must be the view, the worthy actor 
in the affair, Butler, had taken of it, in order to re- 
concile to his conscience the sanctioning of such a 
falsehood; if indeed the man be troubled with any 
such thing as a conscience. 

This, I believe, was Father Butler's first attempt 
at making converts. I shall relate another, and then 
be done with him. 

An English woman, who was engaged as a ser- 
vant, in an American merchant's house at Smyr- 
na, Asia Minor, related the folio a-ing story of her 
conversion to Popery by the instrum.entality of 
our Irish hero. Father Butler. The 94th Regi- 
ment of infantry passing through Gosport, prior 
31 



362 SIX YEARS IN THE 

to its embarkation for Gibraltar, sbe unfortunately 
became acquainted with an Irish Sergeant of that re- 
giment in this, her native town ; and contrary to the 
advice of her parents and friends w^as married to him. 
His first care, after marriage, was to endeavour to 
convert her, his wife, from her own leligion to po- 
pery. This he at tirst attempted by fair means, and 
gentleness, but finding these of no avail, he had re- 
course to violent measures and even stripes. On 
the regiment^s being ordered to Gibraltar, he im- 
mediately brought her under the notice of a Spa- 
nish priest, who acts as chaplain to the British Ro- 
man Catholic soldiers of that garrison. The poor 
woman was a long time pestei'ed with this man's 
arguments. The only thing she had to plead in 
excuse for not being immediately converted, and 
in order to deprecate the anger of her husband, 
was her being unable to understand his barba- 
rous English. This plea served her but little, for 
her husband's ill treatment grew worse daily at her 
obstinacy; as he was pleased to call her attachment 
to the religion of iier childhood; indeed the poor 
creature, having been hlessed with a religious educa- 
tion, and being able to render an account of the hope 
in her, had no inclination whatever to change it for 
a religion she justly thought erroneous. After the 
regiment's removal to Malta, she came into the fangs 
of our hero, father Butler, and even then, though 
she could not plead in excuse, the not understanding 
his language; though indeed his English is not the 
most Johnsonian, nor his pronunciation quite in ac- 
cordance with the rules laid down by Walker, yet 
she persisted in adhering to the religion of the Bible. 
The Father's patience was worn out in catechising 
her, and her husband's in beating her, before she con- 
sented to deny her religion; and it is remarkable, 
that her husband grew more cruel, and more morose 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 363 

towards her since her removal to Malta, which she 
attributed to the fatherly advice of Father Butler. 
The latter one day toid her in English plain enough, 
and which she could not misunderstand, "that un- 
less she made up her mind to embrace the Roman 
Catholic Relis^ion by a certain time'' (fixing one 
or two weeks from the time of his speaking) " that 
she may give up all hopes of ever living in peace 
with her husband. '^ The poor woman thus com 
batted on all sides, and having no one to recur 
to, for she feared her husband's anger, if she 
went to a protestant clergyman, at last yielded, 
and added one more to the number of Butler's 
converts. She publicly renounced protestantism 
at the Jesuit's church, which is now given up en- 
tirely to the use of the English soldiers, amid 
the applauses, and clamours of the bigoted popish 
soldiers and others, who were present on the oc- 
casion. She nearly fainted at the foot of the altar, 
whither she went to receive the Eucharist, after 
pronouncing the words of renunciation; her con- 
science probably smiting her for acting contrary to 
its dictates. All things considered, she showed 
herself a heroine, and deserved a better fate than to 
be joined to a bigoted papist. The wonder is, that she 
held out so long, rather than, that she yielded in the 
end. Her husband not long after her pseudo-conver- 
sion being reduced to the ranks for some misdemea- 
nor, gave himself up to drunkenness and debauchery, 
as much as a man under military discipline could, and 
in the end, fell a victim to the climate and his own in- 
temperance. She was after this thrown on the world 
in a strange country, but God opened away for her. 
She was hired by the American gentleman, spoken 
of above, who was in Malta on business, in whose 
house at Smyrna she now lives, and to whom she 
related the storj- of her forced conversion, as the 



364 SIX YEAES IN THE 

reader has just heard it. She has returned to her 
former creed, and gives evident signs of being 
a pious and faithful Christian. From the two forego- 
ing examples, the reader may learn, of what kind, 
popish conversions are in general, and what these are 
in particular, caused by the operations of the Hiber- 
no-Maltese hero. If the circumstances attending the 
conversions of the others, whom he has placed on his 
list of proselytes, were examined, it is probable, nay, 
it is certain, that they would be found on a par with 
the specimens we have given: each and every one of 
them the efi'ect either of imposition, deception, force, 
or ignorance. 

This illiterate monk had also the impudence to 
enter into a doctrinal controversy with a protestant 
missionary at Malta, of the name of Wilson — the 
same with him, that discovered, and made public 
the knavery of Doctor Naudi, as already related. 
The subject chosen was the " rule of faith," — a sub- 
ject he knows as much about as his sanctified foun- 
der Dominick did of pure Christianity. He had, 
nevertheless, the presumption to open the controver- 
sy by a letter of five or six pages, addressed to Mr. 
Wilson, wherein he endeavoured to bring forward in 
his own uncouth language the hackneyed arguments 
of popish theologians in favour of the Romanist's 
rule of faith — the church, the Pope, and tradition, 
versus the Protestant's — the Bible alone. These ar- 
guments so often confuted, he endeavoured to re- 
vive, and bring forward, as his own, for the purpose 
of distinguishing himself among his fellow-priests. 
Thouo;h Mr. Wilson saw from the beo;inning into 
his real motives, and judged him immediately an ad- 
versary of little capability, and unable, on account of 
his natural stupidity and neglected education,, to 
maintain b}^ any original arguments the ground he 
had taken; yet hoping that it might be the means of 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 365 

opening the eyes of some benighted follower of po- 
pery, he did not div^dain the weakness of his adver- 
sary, or refuse to accept his challenge. In answer 
to his interpolations of old schoolmen, he published 
a very neat little book, entitled ''The Knights of 
the Hermitage, or an account of a fearful, and bloody 
engagement, between Sir Dominick Ritual and Sir 
Paul Text-book^' This book is written in a serio- 
comic style: by the two Knights are meant the po- 
pish ritual, under the name of Sir Dominick Ritual^ 
and the Bible, under that of Sir Paul Text-book. 
Mr. Wilson puts arguments in the mouth of his ad- 
versary, which no one that ever knew Padre Butler 
would suppose himf guilty of using, so far are they 
above his understanding; yet his adversary, to make 
up for what he wants in talents, generously supplies 
him with the arguments, which he probably would 
use, if he were a man of learning; and then refutes 
them — in other words, he supplies him with weap- 
ons, and then fights him. And what return did he 
make so generous an enemy? Did he answer him? 
He did, but in a summary way, for he attempted to 
summon him to the court! He wanted to construe 
into a libel some expression, which Wilson used in 
the course of argument, and was determined to make 
it the subject of a prosecution. The book was print- 
ed in England, and though addressed to Butler, was 
designed for the use of all, who might take a fancy 
to read it. Explaining in a note a certain passage, 
wherein mention is made of Butler's name, and 
which would appear obscure to the general reader, 
unacquainted with the cause of the controversy, the 
author says " that he (Butler) is now vegetating 
among the selt^-denying Dominicans of Malta, and 
had recently stolen on the last moments of a dying 
protestant (Muller, whose history has been given 
above, I suppose, he means) to try to have the hon- 
31* 



365 SIX TEARS IN THE 

our of convertinsj him to poper3^" The valorous 
Knightj Sir Dominick, being unable to face his gal- 
lant adversary in single combat, and on equal terms, 
attempted to call to his assistance his auxiliaries, 
the lawyers and bailiffs of Malta, in order to be 
revenged for his signal defeat: not considering at 
the same time, that such a step would dishonour 
him in the eyes of all honest Knights, because con- 
trary to the established laws of single combat. I 
dare say, his signal defeat has taught him to con- 
sider well the strength of his adversaries, prior 
to engaging them, and, how^ever his presumption 
may excite him to enter the lists against those 
superior to him in prowess, leaving out of the 
question the justice of their cause, to hide him- 
self in future, under the protecting wings of his own 
nothingness. But I have taken up more time in 
speaking of this curious compound of ignorance and 
presumption than I at first intended, not thinking the 
man worth the trouble of many remarks. It is not, 
however, he I intended to portray, but I have taken 
his person, and the rank he holds of chaplain to Irish 
soldiers in Malta, as a criterion, by w-hich to judge 
of the general conduct and endowments of popish 
priests, wherever they are to be found: of their ro- 
guery, their impositions, their mannerof making con- 
verts; in fine of the fruits of the religion, of which 
they are the ministers, and which fruits, were they 
less bitter, would be a greater subject for wonder, 
considering the tree on which they grew, than that 
they are in actual conformity with the nature of 
their parent-branch; though indeed the latter is no 
wonder at all. 



MONASTERIES OP ITALY, &C. 567 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Rev. Mr. Lowndes, Protestant Missionary — -Greek Priests at Corfu 
— State of Religion at Corfu — Popish Clergy and Archbishop 
— Conversation with the Popish Archbishop — His attempt to 
wheedle me again into Popery — My Answer — Persecution by 
the Popish Priests, and its effect — Zante — Popish Priests at 
Zante — ?ylr. Croggon, the Wesleyan Missionary — Letter from 
Smyrna to Mr. Lowndes — The Popish Priests attempt to poison 
me — Effects of the poison — Departure from Zante — Arrival at 
Smyrna — Conclusion. 

After residing some months in Malta, I em- 
harked on board a Maltese vessel for Corfu; which 
island 1 reached after a pleasant voyage of ten days. 
I had letters of recommendation to some of the 
English residents there, and through their interest, 
was soon in possession of a good income, derived 
from teaching Italian, Latin, and English. I kept 
myself, as much as possihle, separate from the priests 
of the island, fearing, that their machinations and in- 
fluence might be of injury to me, if they came to 
the knowledge of my former profession. 1 formed 
a very close friendship with a truly evangelical mis- 
sionary, the Rev. Mr. Lowndes, a long time resid- 
ing on the island, to which he has been the means 
of rendering very , great services, by establishing 
schools, and instructing the people in the life-giving 
truths of the Gospel. To that pious and Christian 
man I am very much indebted. From him I first 
learned what Christianity really is. Though I made 
no secret of my Socinian views on religious mat- 
ters, he yet endeavoured, not by persecution, and 
annoyance — the method practised by those I met at 
London — but by argument, and a candid perusal of 



368 SIX YEARS IN THE 

the sacred volume, to convince me of my errors; and 
I must certainly have been infatuated, not to be 
persuaded. Persuaded, however, I was not, at that 
time, nor for a lono; time afterward. Indeed, it re- 
quired the hand of God, and grace from above, to 
accomplish so great a w^ork. Mr. Lowndes was 
also of very great service to me in a temporal point 
of view. He obtained for me many tuitions in tlie 
Greek families, and were it not for popish persecu- 
tion, which broke out as soon as ever the priests 
discovered, (by what means I am to this day igno- 
rant,) my former profession, I would have I'emaiued 
at Corfu all my life. 

I have already, in a former part of this work, 
given a sketch of the state of religion at Corfu. 
The idol Spiridione is the god of the island, and 
from him are expected all the blessings, spiritual 
and temporal, which its inhabitants pray for. The 
Greek priests are proverbially ignorant and illite- 
rate; and, consequently, bigoted in the extreme to 
their own superstitious form of worship. Their 
supine ignorance is so well known, that the Latin 
inhabitants, when they wish to express a more than 
usual degree of that mother of devotion^ say of one 
of their acquaintances, '^ Egli e piu ignorante, che 
ua papa Greco. '^ (He is more ignorant than a 
Greek priest.) The greater part of the educated 
Corfuotes are naturalists. They do not believe in 
Christianity under an}- form. Their religion is that 
of nature, and they take no pains to hide that belief. 
Some of them, unable to bear the pangs of skepti- 
cism, flee for relief to the only place it can be found 
— to the Book of Life. Mr. Lowndes has pointed 
out to me a few of the principal inhabitants, who 
were really pious, and scriptural Christians. These 
were at first, infidels, and owe their conversion, next 
to God, to the pastoral care of that gentleman. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 369 

The Latin clergy are comparatively more en- 
lightened than the Greek. This is chiefly owing to 
their having received their education at Rome, or 
Bologna. But what they gain in knowledge, they 
lose in morality, for they are by many degrees, in- 
ferior to the Greek clergy on this point. The 
greater part of the latter have wives and families. 
The Greek priests, who have not, are as remarka- 
ble for their scandalous, and immoral lives, as the 
Lntin priests themselves — a striking example of the 
effects of celibacy. 

There are in Corfu four popish churches, govern- 
ed by an archbishop, who is nominated by the court 
of Rome, and paid by the Ionian government. The 
popish bishop who was in possession of that see, in 
my time, held, as far as I could learn, the character 
of a pious and good man, that is, as far as piety and 
goodness can form the ingredients of a popish pre- 
late, of one, who must be either a fool, or an impos- 
tor, in order to come up to the letter of his title. 
When it was discovered, that I was a Roman Cath- 
olic clergyman, just escaped from monastic bon- 
dage, the archbishop immediately sent for me to his 
house. I thougiU it prudent to go to him. He in- 
quired w^hetlier what he had heard from good au- 
thority concerning me was the truth ? whether I 
had been a Capuchin friar? I answered in the affirm- 
ative. He then told me, "that he was a long time 
wishing for an Irish priest to take charge of /Ae 
souls [his own words) of the British Roman Catho- 
lic soldiers, who were quartered in the island, and 
that if I wished to unite myself again to the Holy 
Roman Catholic Churchy he would give me that 
chaplaincy, with a fixed salary.'^ He then entered 
into a long, theological discussion, or rather, lecture, 
(for he was the only speaker) on the truth and in- 
fallibility of the church of Rome, on the dangers of 



370 SIX YEARS IN THE 

heresy, and on the miserable death of the heresiarchs. 
He endeavoured to bring before me the dano;erous 
state of my own soul, if I should be taken off by the 
hand of death, whilst living in enmity w^ith the 
church, and therefore (he added logically enough) 
with God. To all this I turned a deaf ear. I told 
him plainl37^, " that my escape from popery was not 
the effect of whim, or caprice, but of a firm convic- 
tion of the fallacy of that system of religion ; and 
that, though I had not embraced as yet any other 
form of C!)ristian worship, I would, nevertheless, 
rather trust to the religion of nature for the salvation 
of my soul, than to the erroneous and absurd doc- 
trines of popery.^' I even added, when he urged 
his arguments on the infallibility of his chruch, and 
when he endeavoured to prove from some saying of 
Augustine to be found — the Lord knows where,* 
that the Scriptures themselves were based on that 
infallibility which I deny, " that were the Scriptures 
based on no better authority than that of the pope, 
and of his church, this night I would sleep a disci- 
ple of Voltaire.^' 

My interview \vith the archbishop of Corfu pas- 
sed over in this way, and we separated, mutually dis- 
satisfied with each other. I very soon, however, 
found the effects, which his anger had upon my 
emoluments, and my means of subsistence. He 

*A hackneyed quotation from St. Augastin, or at least, one fa- 
thered upon that saint, is in great vogue with popish disputants. 
" iVe qiiidem ipsis scripturis crederem^ nisi auctoritas Romana 
ecclesicB me ad id excitaref\ (Not even the Scriptures themselves 
would I believe, unless the authority of the Roman Church moved 
me thereto) is in the mouth of every popish schooLboy. I wish 
their teachers would teach these boys, that it is a sophism, — what 
the logicians call ^^ cir cuius vitiosus" to prove one thing by anoth- 
er ; to prove the truth of the church from the Scriptures, and then 
the truth of the Scriptures themselves, from the church. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 371 

could not openly do me any injury, or cause it to 
be done to me, for he knew, that he was not living 
under popish government, and that Lord Nugent, 
the High Commissionary of the Ionian Islands would 
not permit him to touch my person. Had I been in 
any Italian city, and expressed myself in the way 
related, 1 would not long have enjoyed the light of 
heaven. Being unable then, to avenge himself 
by personal violence, he resolved to starve me into a 
compliance with his wishes. He excited, or rather 
commanded his cursed priests to denounce me from 
their altars and pulpits. He himself used his influ- 
ence with those families, whose children I was in- 
structing, to withdraw them from me. In fine, I 
found myself, after five months' residence at Corfu, 
without the m^eans of subsistence, on account of the 
machinations, and through the influence of the popish 
priests — as cursed a set of bigoted, unchristian men, 
as ever devoted themselves to the propagation of 
the soul-destroying tenets of popery ; or as ever 
bowed their knee to the heast — the great idol of 
the western churches, who ^* sittelh in the temple of 
God, showing himself as God.'' 

Finding myself fast sinking into a state of abject 
poverty, and unable to stem the torrent of persecu- 
tion, in which the priests were endeavouring to 
overwhelm me, I resolved to leave Corfu, and go 
to Zante, where I hoped to be less exposed to po- 
pish rancour. Zante is one of the seven Ionian 
islands under British protection. The greater part 
of its inhabitants follow the Greek rite. There are, 
however, followers of the pope there, also — the rem- 
nant of old Venetian families, and the descendants 
of Maltese emigrants. There are, I believe about 
fourteen popish priests in the Island. These are 
governed by a bishop, (whom I never saw) who is 
subject to the archbishop of Corfu. Were the most 



372 SIX YEARS IN THE 

infamous brothels of London and Paris to be search- 
ed, there could not be found in them fourteen ruf- 
fians to match the fourteen priests of Zanle, in ruf- 
fianism, infamy, and debauchery. The priests of 
Corfu, nay, even those of Malta, are angels, when 
compared with them. Each of them publicly keeps 
a concubine for his own individual use, besides now, 
and then, leaving her to pine alone, for the more 
welcome embraces of some fair penitent. Their 
whole lime is spent in a coffee house, situated in the 
principal square, called '^ Piazza San Marco." In 
this coffee house, they might be seen m fours, sixes, 
or tens, gaming, drinking, and carousing; not once, 
nor ten times, but so constantly, as to acquire for the 
house the name of ^'caffe dei preti/^ or the priests' 
coffee house. The house itself has become so infa- 
mous through their frequeating it, that no respecta- 
ble inhabitant of the Island would be seen entering 
it. It is therefore frequented by idlers, and loungers 
alone ; by those who earn a subsistence by scheming 
and impositions — all fit companions for these adepts 
in scheming and imposture — the priests. 

The Greek priests of Zante are for the most part 
married men. They have a greater show of decorum 
in their general conduct, than the popish priests; 
and some of them really are, judging at least from 
outward appearances, seriously impressed with the 
important duties of their calling. If there be any 
tincture of Christianity at all, in the island, it must 
be looked for among some few^ of the Greek priests, 
though, to be sure, nearly stifled by the superstitions, 
for which the Greek as well as the popish church, 
is remarkable. There is also a Wesleyan Methodist 
Missionary of the name of Croggon, residing in the 
island, but his influence is very small. Indeed, I 
believe, he has no influence at all, for he is not well 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, 5iC. 373 

liked, being quite unfit for a missionary. At least, 
for the short acquaintance I had with him, I was 
never able to discover any of the qualifications, 
which induced the Wesleyan Missionary Society to 
send him to Zante; and not one of those, who had 
any intimate acquaintance wuth him, did I ever hear 
speak of him, as a man worthy of being respected, 
or as desirous of ameliorating the moral or intellec- 
tual condition of the people. He was ignorant of 
every language, but English. Greek, he attempted 
to smatter, but scarcely made himself intelligible. 
It may, then, naturally be expected, that the blessed 
doctrines of the reformation made but little progress, 
when taught by so very unskilful a teacher. 

Having consulted with my friend Mr. Lowndes, 
and laid open to him the state to which I was driven 
by the persecutions of the Corfu priests, he advised 
metogoto Zantejgivingmeat thesame time a letter of 
introduction to Mr. Croggon, the only person he 
knew residing there. Zante being but a short dis- 
tance from Corfu — less than twenty four hours^ sail — 
I arrived there the day after my departure from 
Corfu. What happened after my arrival, and why 
I left it after a very short stay, will be best learned 
from a letter I wrote from Smyrna to the Rev. Mr. 
Lowndes at Corfu. I find the copy of it among my 
other papers, and shall transcribe it word for word. 
It will show, of what popery is capable now-a days, 
as well as formerly, and that the diabolical principle 
" the end justifies the means,'^ is still practised in 
every place, where popery prevails. I myself am a 
living example of the truth of this assertion, having 
barely escaped with life from the poisonous cup pre- 
sented by the hands of a popish priest, as will be 
seen by those, w4io take the trouble to read the fol- 
lowing letter. 
32 



374 SIX YEARS IN THE 

Smyrna^ 20th December^ 1834. 
Rev. and Dear Sir: 

Gratitude for the many favors received from 
your hands, united to an ardent wish of returning 
my heart-felt thanks, makes me embrace the present 
opportunity of writing by a ship, about to depart 
from this port for Malta, whence I hope, this letter 
will find its way to you. You will surely be sur- 
prised to hear, that I am at Smyrna, and will won- 
der, what induced me to proceed there? Have pa- 
tience, dear Sir, and I shall tell you all, the how, the 
when and the wherefore. 

You may, perhaps, remember, indeed I am sure 
5^ou do remember, that being unable to hold out any 
longer against the unchristian-like, (though suffici- 
ently popish-like,) persecutions of the Corfu priests, 
I determined upon a change of place, and, by your 
advice, proceeded to Zanle. Upon my arrival 1 
sought Mr. Croggon, to whom you had kindly given 
me a letter ol introduction. He endeavoured to 
procure me some scholars; and, although a gentle- 
man of very little influence in the island, (the rea- 
son of which you know yourself,) he yet succeeded 
so far, as to place me in a way of living indepen- 
dently, if priestly persecutions would permit me. 
I had not been very long at Zante, when priestly 
machinations again broke out, though not in so 
open, yet in a more insidious manner than at Corfu. 
I had determined, from my first arrival, to keep my- 
self clear of all communication with the Roman Ca- 
tholic clergy of the place, and had so far succeeded 
as to bafile all their attempts, though many were 
made, of becoming acquainted with me. Finding 
all their maneuvres without success, they changed 
their mode of attack, and fixed upon a plan, which, 
for its baseness, would do honour to any of the most 
renowned ministers of Satan's empire. And what 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 375 

do you think this plan was? Nothing less than to 
deprive me of life and honour at the same time. 
The}^ hired a Roman Catholic non-commissioned 
officer, belonging to a British regiment quartered in 
the island, and having first worked on his weak, 
superstitious mind, through the organ of confession, 
they persuaded him that he would do a meritorious 
action, and worthy of a plenary indulgence, if he 
deprived me of life, or at least devised some method 
of driving me from Zante. They represented me, 
at the same time, to him, as an excommunicated 
person, and an apostate from "ovr holy mother^ 
the church,^^ This certainly will appear incredi- 
ble to you, as it has also appeared to me, when first 
told of it. Though well acquainted w^ith the exist- 
ence of such an abominable theory in the church of 
Rome, 1 yet could hardly believe it possible, that 
the priests, monsters as they are, would dare put it 
in practice in a country boasting British protection, 
and, therefore, unused to such abominations. In- 
deed, the mind can hardly conceive it possible, that 
human prejudice and bigotry could go so far as to 
lay down as a principle of morality, that "to de- 
prive a fellow-creature of life is a meritorious 
act in the sight of God;^^ for, however popish 
theologians might endeavour to cover over the plain 
words by introducing the clause '-^ iv hen the good 
of the church requires it^^^ &c. the theory, in it- 
self, is abominable, and the practice of it always 
amounts to " murder.^' It would seem, that some 
popish teachers themselves are ashamed of it, from 
their den3nng its very existence, which they would 
not do, if they could, in any way, defend or excuse 
it. — But to return. 

The soldier, fortified with a general absolution be- 
fore-hand, devised, I know not what method of be- 
coming acquainted with me. If I am not mistaken. 



376 SIX YEARS IN THE 

he called at my lodgings one morning, and intro- 
duced himself by saying, that he had three children 
whom he wished, that I should attend one hour every 
day, to teach them Italian. He promised me, at the 
same time, eight dollars a month, as a compensation. 
I first doubted his ability to pay so much, but far- 
ther inquiry satisfied me that he had the means, hav- 
ing, besides his pay as a non-commissioned officer, 
another salary from some government employment. 
Thus, thrown off my guard, and not having the least 
suspicion, (and how could I?) of any evil intended 
mc, I frequently met with the aforesaid man. One 
day in particular, he invited me to accompany him 
to a friend's house. I consented. He conducted 
me to a house, not very distant from the "caffe dei 
preti^^ (the priests' coffee-house,) and to my great 
astonishment, ushered me into a room, where, the 
first thing that attracted my notice, was four or five 
priests carousing ; some of them in a beastly state of 
intoxication. It was now too late to retreat. They 
prevailed upon m^e to sit down, and as an introduc- 
tion to conversation, handed me a glass of — what 1 
then thought was wine, but which I afterward dis- 
covered, to my cost, to be — poison, with a colour- 
ing of wine. I drank it — and in a few moments 
after became insensible. I recollect nothing far- 
ther of what occurred. The next morning I awoke 
in a burning fever, which continued, without inter- 
mission for ten days. I was, as I was afterward in- 
formed, carried in a state of insenibility to my lodg- 
ings. The garrison physician, who was a friend of 
mine, beintr sent for, he imm^ediately gave it as his 
opinion, that I had been poisoned. To his skill and 
treatment, I owe, under God, my life. It was well 
for me that the poison was so powerful, and that it 
caused immediate insensibility; for had it been less 
rapid in its operations, I would have retired to bed, 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 377 

without any suspicion of the real cause of my sick- 
ness, and then sunk into an eternal sleep. 

The civil authorities of Zante wished to set on 
foot an inquiry on the subject, but 1 begged that it 
might be dropped, being unwilling to render myself 
an object of curiosity, and fearing other atten^pts on 
my life. In about fifteen days I found myself suf- 
ficiently recovered to depart from the island — a 
thing I had before determined upon. I passed on, 
accordingly, to Cephalonia, where I remained but a 
few days. From Cephalonia I went to Patrass, and 
thence to Nauplion, or Napoli di Romania. Not 
being able to procure employment in the latter city, 
and not having the wit to live without it, I resolved 
to leave the civilized world altogether, and try my 
fortune among the Turks. A vessel departing for 
Smyrna, (Asia Minor,) presented an opportunity of 
putting my design in execution. I took a passage 
in her, and without an}'^ thing remarkable having 
occurred during the voyage, I arrived safely in this 
city, (Smyrna.) I am now residinjj; in the house of 
the Rev. W. B. Lewis, an Irish clergyman, and mis- 
sionary to the Jews of this city. He has treated 
me with exceedingly great kindness, and I hope, 
through his influence, to be shortly in a way of be- 
ing useful to myself and others. 

This, my dear sir, is a brief narrative of what oc- 
curred, since my departure from Corfu, and of the 
how^ the why^ and the wherefore^ I left Zante. A 
great change has also taken place in my spiritual 
concerns. You knew me when bordering on deism, 
and you had also the consideration to attribute such 
a state of mind, rather to the absurd doctrines of the 
church from which I had lately escaped, than to any 
innate, or natural depravity, peculiar to myself. 
You judged right. The transition from popery to 
Christianity is rarely, if ever, the work of a day. 

32* 



378 SIX YEARS IN THE 

It requires some time to heal the wounds inflicted 
on the mind by popish superstitions. Now, I trust, 
however, that, without presumption, I can say, "/ 
have found a Saviour, ^^ I acknowledge the hand 
of God, even in his chastisements. Perhaps he has 
made use of the above sufferings, only to bring me 
to a closei' union with Hin^self. My reliance upon 
His mercy is so strong, that I would not now shrink 
from the whole court of Rome, with the pope at its 
head, if it should think proper to begin a crusade 
against my insignificance. Neither pope, nor popery, 
j)riest, nor priest-craft, shall separate me from the 
love of God, which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord. I 
conclude then, protesting myself 
Your obliged, humble servant,* 

S. I. MAHONEY. 

From the foregoing letter, the reader will be able 
to judge of the difficulties into which my renuncia- 
tion of popery had plunged me. He will also ac- 
quire a knowledge of the manner, in which the 
the pope's myrmidons, the priests, treat those 
whose consciences oblige them to separate from their 
communion. Many other instances could be given, 
equal and even surpassing in heinousness that by 
which my own life was endangered, but as this book 
has already reached a greater bulk, than was at first 
intended, I shall pass them over in silence for the 
present. Before I conclude, however, I must say a 
few words, on the state of religion in general, and 
more especially on the state of the popish religion 
at Sm3-rna. 

The Greek church is that, which, next to Ma- 
hometanism, counts the greater number of adherents 
at Smyrna. The Greek priests of Smyrna are gen- 
erally better educated, and more enlightened, than 
priests of the same church in the Morea, and islands 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &:C. 379 

of the Archipelago : they are however, equally su- 
perstitious, and sunk into the same indiSerence for 
the Scriptures, which distinguishes the latter. — 
There are many schools kept hy priests, wherein 
the children are taught to read and write. The 
Scriptures are also read in some of them; but the lat- 
ter are chiefly under the direction of protestant mis- 
sionaries. The Greek clergy of Smyrna, is in 
general a very moral body of men. The greater 
part of those composing it, is married ; which per- 
haps is the reason, that very few examples of public 
scandal — so very frequent in popish countries — are 
afforded by priests. 

The pope has also his adherents at Smyrna. 
There are two convents of Latin monks there : one 
called ^' ilconvento i^/Yync^5e"^(French convent) be- 
longing to the respectable order of Capuchins ; the 
other, to the no less respectable one of the " Zocco- 
lonti," or wooden-shod Franciscans. In the latter, 
the popish missionary bishop resides. He is a 
Frenchman, and is possessed of as little Christianity, 
andas7nz/cA bigotry and superstition, as distinguish- 
ed his countrymen before the memorable revolution 
of ^89, and which led them, in the end, to establish 
by law J the worship of the "goddess of reason,^^ 
The monks in Smyrna come up, in point of morali- 
ty, with their brethren at Jerusalem ; a description 
of whom has been already given. Popery is indeed 
the same, in every place. Popish practices, and po- 
pish doctrines have the same demoralizing effect on 
the lives of the followers of popery at Rome, as at 
Jerusalem ; at Smyrna, as in Ireland. The monks 
make use of the same arts for extorting money from 
the deluded people in one place as in the other. 
Monks indeed, wherever they might be found, may 
take for their motto^ the Italian verses : 



380 SIX YEARS IN THE 

Con arte, e con inganno 
Si vive la met^ dell' anno 
Con inganno, e con arte 
Si vive I'altra parte. 

By art and by deceit 

One half the year, we eat ; 

By deceit and by art 

We eat^ the remaining part.* 

The monks of Smyrna are, for the most part, Ital- 
ians, or Smyrniotes. I knew one of the latter, who 
studied at Rome, and whom I saw afterward at 
Smyrna. His name is '*' Padre Giovanni Battista,'^ 
(Father John Baptist.) Whilst a student at Rome, 
he was distinguished for nothing more than for his 
asinine stupidity. He has, however, since his arri- 
val at Smyrna, acquired the name of a great preach- 
er, and is esteemed highly by some of the people ; 
but more especially by his fair penitents, to some of 
whom he has been the cause (and 1 know it from 
good authority) of giving the title of *' Mamma" a 
title similar to his own of " Padre," thus proving 
himself a father, in the double sense of the word; as 
a priest^ and, as it is received in common parlance. 
Indeed, I doubt much, if there be a popish priest in 
the world, w^ho is not more entitled to the endearing 
title of '* Father" than their friends give them 
credit for. 

It is now full time to bring this work to a close, 
for indeed I fear, that the reader, (if it will ever be 
read by any one,) is already as tired of reading, as 
I myself am of relating, the abominations of popery, 
and of her soul-deceiving ministers. Let it not be 

* The reader will have the goodness to excuse the above abortive 
attempt at poetry. The Gods have not made me a poet, nor do I 
lay any pretensions to the title of one. 



MONASTERIES OF ITALY, &C. 3S1 

supposed, that it is against the latter as men^ that 
this work is directed. No, it is not with a view of 
bringing odium on priests, as men or individuals, 
that these pages have been put together. It is against 
their doctrines and against their practices — the ne- 
cessary consequences of such doctrines. I love a 
priest, as well as I love any other of my fellow- 
creatures; but then, I do not love him for his being 
a priest^ but because he is a man. Were I to look 
on him only as a priest, 1 should be rather inclined 
to hate him, as a personification of dishonesty; for I 
cannot conceive it possible, that an honest man could 
remain a popish priest, that is, a teacher of false doc- 
trines and deceiver of the people. There are, per- 
haps, some priests who are really convinced of the 
truth of the doctrines they teach, and of the lawful- 
ness of the practices, which are peculiarly the church 
oi Rome^s own; but these I fear are few, very few 
in number. I have not, during the many years I 
was domesticated with the popish clergy, ever 
known one of them, whose talents were above me- 
diocrity, a believer in the absurdities, which, as a 
priest, he was obliged to teach the people. They 
were, for the most part, infidels; and those who 
were not infidels, wevQ protestanis, really and truly 
protesting in their own minds against the abomina- 
tions of popery, with as much sincerity, as the most 
zealous Christians have ever done. Personal safety 
obliged them to keep their abhorrence of popery to 
themselves; but if they had the use of their ow^n free 
will, they would soon throw off, as many have done, 
when an opportunity presented, the outside of pope- 
ry, and declare themselves Gospel Christians. The 
church of Rome, then, according to my opinion, is 
wholly upheld by the secular arm, in those coun- 
tries, where she is the established church, and by 
some few men of talents, who, though not believing 



385 SIX YEARS IN THE 

in her doctrines, yet defend her, because they get 
a subsistence by her. In those countries where she 
is not the established church, she is upheld by the 
ignorance of the people, the cunning of the priests, 
and last, not least, by the persecutions of protestant 
governments. Ireland will serve as an example of 
the latter method of supporting popery. Will any 
one suppose, that it was through love for the pope, 
or his religion, that the Irish resisted, and still resist 
all attempts to make them Gospel Christians? I 
would as soon believe that the church of Rome is 
the church of Christ, as believe any such thing! The 
true and only support of popery in Ireland, was the 
persecuting spirit of protestants; that is, of those, 
who, disguised under the name of protestants, but 

who were really little better than d Is, came to 

butcher and slaughter the unfortunate Irish, for the 
sake of obtaining possession of their properties, or 
depriving them of their emoluments. The penal 
code, that disgrace to England, has then been of 
more real service to the pope and to the Irish priests, 
than all the bulls the former issued from the Vati- 
can, or than all the curses the latter pronounced from 
their altars. When the people were oppressed, to 
whom could they more naturally fly for consolation 
than to a minister of religion? This riveted the 
people's chains, and the priests' power grew stron- 
ger, according as the oppressions received from their 
protestant task masters grew more insupportable. 
Oppression and persecution are then the real causes, 
to which the adherence of Ireland to popery must 
be attributed, and not, by any means, because the 
Irish love popery for its own sake — a thing impossi- 
ble, for they do not understand it. 



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